I have wanted you since I was fourteen; since I listened to Kiss Me on repeat while working on my ninth grade science project; since I doodled your unknown likeness in my notebooks during tenth grade English; since eleventh grade, when Eisley made me long inexplicably, and senior year when I looked for your face in every crowd. I have wanted you since my unwilling adulthood; since the long nights when I would pace campus with Imogen Heap or sit cross-legged on my dorm room floor with Tegan and Sara; since the even longer nights after graduation when I would toss and turn beneath the sheets, refusing the false hope of the siren’s song. And I want you now, still, forever; since your voice has become the one singing me to sleep at night; since I’m no longer ashamed of offering you my own; since every song reminds me of you but none of them hurt the way they did before.

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