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once

we stood on a beach in south carolina. close enough to the edge of the ocean to feel cold water lick at our feet. I couldn't stop pointing my camera at her hair, wind-whipped and all lit up, spun from sugar, from neon kool-aid powder, from hours spent dreaming of the most shocking shade of pink, from saved christmas money and birthday money and all the pennies collected in between. couldn't stop thinking she was the teenager I always wanted to be.