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.