At 7 I was just happy to sit next to her in class. 

At 9 I was excited that I got to pass notes with her. 

At 11 I thought she was really good at sports, and maybe I could be like her. 

At 13 I really wanted her hair and her cheekbones. 

At 14 I barely understood what was happening to me, and I just wanted to kiss her. 

At 18 I figured maybe I just wanted to be unique. 

At 20 I turned beet red and tripped over my words trying to say something to a gorgeous waitress and thought, “maybe not”. 

At 21 I came out to my best friend, and I cried, and she loved me, and I felt seen. 

At 23 all I want is to have something beautiful. 

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