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“Loving him was honest, sky blushed pink, hair stiff with salt as we raced down the beach. At fourteen, he said, “Hurting you won’t ever be my way of fixing me.” He meant it.” — Caroline George
Loving him was honest, sky blushed pink, hair stiff with salt as we raced down the beach. At fourteen, he said, “Hurting you won’t ever be my way of fixing me.” He meant it.