A moment like a dozen others

I’m sensitive. I hide it behind the wisecracks, the sardonic Kevin Smith-like lectures I spout, the anger, the attitude. But I’m sentimental and soft. Sometimes, something will strike me right in the soul and I will weep. Maybe it’s watching people and their interactions. Maybe it’s a passage in a novel. Sometimes, it’s a song. Last night, as I drove out to my second birthday party of my new summer break, I heard Fleetwood Mac’s “Gypsy.” Stevie Nicks has an amazing voice and her lyrics are poetry. I’m sure she’s made me cry, more than likely to “Landslide.” For whatever reason, hearing “Gypsy” made me cry with warm tears and a restrained sob.
Semiautobiographical. Bittersweet.
Like the beginning of another summer.

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