There is something dramatic, vulnerable, alluring, cathartic—all at once—about looking back at eighteenhood. It would differ, I presume, depending on one’s present stage of life. As an off-hand ...
Sometimes, a flower is just a flower. But when someone presents you with one (or a dozen!) or you keep dreaming of a specific kind, well then, there's probably some symbolism behind it. Of course, ...
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