I was eighteen years old when I finally understood something that took me my whole life to learn.
Love is not always quiet.
Sometimes it is not gentle or private.
Sometimes love means standing up, out loud, in front of everyone, for the person who has spent years standing up for you when no one was watching.
That realization came during my senior year, as prom season crept closer.
While my classmates talked endlessly about dresses, dates, and after-parties, my thoughts kept drifting somewhere else entirely.
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