It’s nearly midnight, running down the street arms open in the warm spring rain. Wine glass in hand and wet pavement under bare feet as laughter rolls off our tongues easier than words. At 25 years old splashing in puddles still hasn’t gotten old. Neither has the peaceful exhilaration of standing in the pouring rain looking up into a dark sky as flashes light us up like fireworks, far but too close. We said, we want to remember this. All of it. The smell of the wet grass and earth, and the taste of Chardonnay mixed with spring rain. This is what it feels like to be alive, young, and free.  

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