And just like that, the three of us were back in a rhythm we’d almost forgotten. I won’t romanticize it too much. Molly wasn’t magic. She was just… permission.
“Same.”
Caylin texted me on a Tuesday:
But August 2017 is still there, tucked inside me like a photograph I don’t need to see to remember.
The first time with Caylin and Molly — back in 2015 — was chaos. Too much emotion. Too little sleep. Too many promises made at 2 a.m. that turned into awkward silences by noon. Caylin Me And Molly For The Second Time -2017 g...
If you were around in 2017, you know what I mean. Molly was the friend who made silence feel like conversation. The one who let you say “I’ve missed you” without actually having to say it.
“No,” I said. “I feel like I haven’t even started yet, and I’m already tired.” And just like that, the three of us
“Same time next year?” she joked.
But Caylin had changed. A little older. A little quieter. Still had that same crooked smile when she opened the door. She was just… permission
If you meant something else, feel free to clarify — but for now, here’s a full-length post you can use or adapt. August 2017. Somewhere between nostalgia and ruin.