The Days In Between That Seemed Too Long

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I'm glad Klara was so understanding. I couldn't have imagined making her mad right before we had to leave each other. I would have been in agony for the entire school year wondering whether or not she would ever want to speak to me again. I would have been dreading that first Saturday of June, afraid she wouldn't be happy to see me when our families met up again.

Instead, I spent the school year relaxed, taking part in my usual activities, hanging with my usual friends. There were more holidays, more parties, and more family get-togethers. Over Christmas vacation we traveled to my grandmother's house on my father's side, and we spent spring break with cousins down in Florida.

One day a boy in my class asked me to be his girlfriend. I said no. He was cute and all, but I decided I was too young and I didn't have any sort of feelings for him anyway. I held hands with him once, when we were playing at recess. It wasn't anything special. Not like... not like with Klara.

All school year I felt myself growing distracted by thoughts of that last summer, particularly the day before we left. I looked at my arms, my hands, remembering the feel of soft, smooth, warm skin. I wondered why they felt different somehow, as though the contact had changed them. I couldn't place my finger on it, didn't understand at the time, but there seemed to be an inner ache for something that wasn't there, something they wanted to hold.

It may have been all in my head, but somehow it still felt so real. I tried to push the feeling away. Pretended it didn't exist. There was nothing else I could even do, because I was too young, and there were certain things they didn't teach you in school. If I was going to understand someday, I was going to have to learn on my own.

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