I was born in Neenah, Wisconsin five minutes after my sister Jenny. When I was five, my family moved into what would become our beloved home for decades. Our house sat on the edge of a cul de sac where we’d spend our summer days playing kickball and riding bikes with the neighbors. My dad built a sturdy deck in the backyard and laid the brick in the driveway. Jenny and I took tap dancing lessons with Ms. Delorit who was energetic and young at heart. I let an older girl in my youth group pierce my ear with a safety pin. In high school, Jenny managed to acquire many adorable coordinating outfits in her closet, which were strictly off limits to me. For years I grew my hair long until it reached the tail end of my back. Everybody, including me, had a crush on the new, brainy physics teacher. My dad taught me how to drive a manual Honda Civic. I filled the glove compartment with Beatles cassette tapes. One day walking to English class, I saw Josh for the first time. I never saw a face I liked so much and as instantly as his. I had my first depressive episode when I was a college freshman. I fell in love with jazz music and writing poetry while sipping lattes in coffee shops. When a close friend took his life, my heart temporarily lived in my stomach. I remember driving around all night with Andy until he finally found the courage to say he liked me. I love outdoor music festivals and dancing in a crowd of people. I gave birth to a 7lb, 7oz baby boy on a Sunday afternoon in spring. Last night, I discovered something intimate about trimming Josh’s hair.