Allowing for Ease

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When I was 22, I had fallen in love with a boy who lived in Newfoundland. I’ll call him K. We had met the year before on my school’s reading week when I’d driven half way across the country through snow storms for the sake of an adventure. Upon meeting him, K. had blown me away. He was interested in photography and art, had his own dark room in a closet at his house. He tasted like freedom.

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