Nine!

I remember several things from my high school graduation: the buzz of energy coming from the seats surrounding me; the tears threatening at the corners of my eyes; my grandparents making the drive to attend; how my parents' house felt as if the air had been removed and every inch refilled with friends attending my open house; the tears that did come when I met up with one of my cross-country teammates who was younger and I was leaving behind. But this is the hug. The one I remember. Weaving through a shuffle of people, I had found him, and then I buried myself in him. And stayed.

I'm still there. Some boys just know how to hug. Some boys, you would marry again and again. Every chance you got. Happy ninth, Jas.