Yesterday I heard the old Chicago song "Colour My World." It took me back to the summer after 7th grade. I was 12 years old, and I had my first slow dance with a boy.
I remember that he was cute, and he was nice, and his name was Patrick (probably.) I don't remember him talking to me at all before our dance, or even much after it. We hardly touched at all, dancing an arms length away from each other. My hands were on his shoulders. He had a death grip on my waist. It was the most romantic moment of my life up til then. And given the sweetness of the memory, I guess it still ranks way up there.
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