W is for Wild

Wind whipping our hair everywhere. Music blasting on the stereo. Five of us crammed into a car jetting down Pacific Coast Highway. Exactly as it should be.

It was a summer of secrets. The kind you didn’t want to keep but had to. The kind of secrets that make you feel alive and like you’re dying at the same time.

Look back, connect the dots, consider what may never have connected, what may never have happened. And look at now. Think of what might have been different. Think of what is. Hold onto neither too closely.

Be alive. Be wild.

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