It was 1992, I think. Maybe 1993. In any case it was summer. My hair was the longest it has ever been while your skirts were the shortest.
We danced around and sang out of key, did silly things and laughed about everything and nothing at the same time.
We were in love, I guess, but we couldn't tell or maybe we didn't want to. It'd ruin the magic.
Sometimes I long to go back to that time when everything was simpler, especially because
I could breathe through both nostrils.