I remember goose feathers my mother collected for me even though to her they all looked the same. I remember picking raspberries from someone’s bushes. No one ever told me whose they were. I remember when the world consisted of 1 square mile from my house: the dead end at the right, the school up the street and a few houses full of kids who didn’t want to be my friends. I remember that Christian schools have mean kids too. I remember forgetting that my mom was in the backyard and calling 911. I remember being naïve, innocent and stupid. I remember living in my own little world over and over and over. I remember the boy who used to cut himself and tell me that he loved me and that there was no God. I remember blueberry white tea kisses under the rain. I remember 3 months earlier, crying on the roof thinking, “How far away can love be?” I remember my first taste of human skin. I remember when it wasn’t a habit. I remember when cleaning the bathroom included pretending I was in a Windex commercial. I remember that feeling of waking up, the indistinguishable one that only happens every now and then, but always means I won’t make it to the toilet before I vomit. I remember Christmas Eve food poisoning, dry heaves until 4 am, and being sad when I gained those 2 pounds back afterwards. I remember doing regrettable things in the back of an empty movie theater before I was good at those things. I remember when my only friends were from the internet. I remember before it was a habit, it was still weird. I remember when I used to laugh at my grandfather’s jokes. I remember when he still told jokes. I remember dressing badly so people would notice me. I remember I used to think about God every day. I remember not caring about money, I remember my first paycheck, and I remember when I started to love money. I remember when I trusted people. I remember thinking that the clothes I wore would make people like me. I remember when my grandfather believed my sister was crazy. I remember when I started to believe him. I remember watching the night sky and feeling like nothing. I remember the pause of hesitating, and then the jerky motion after, like I was some old rollercoaster ride. I remember losing my last baby tooth during Spanish class when I was 16. I remember forgetting about my butterfly-shaped birthmark, then remembering it again and feeling special. I remember when the strongest insult I could use was, “You hate me.” I remember waiting for a prince to rescue me from all my troubles like the movies told me would happen when I was a child. I remember thinking, “Someone in the world is thinking this same thought right now.” I remember the first time I got naked for a camera. I remember times after that as well. I remember being watched, and not caring, because I couldn’t see any eyes around. In that way, it is much different, colder and unreal. I remember being remembered for making funny faces. I remember when I refused to make them. I remember when I used to play the piano. I remember one song. I remember the first time I thought I was pregnant. I remember that happening a lot. I remember playing DDR with my ex-boyfriend. The air still smelled like sex. I remember when all I needed to have fun was an action figure and my imagination. I remember being angry that men didn’t have to wear shirts, but women did. It was hot out. I remember when I did things because I loved them instead of doing them to be loved. I remember how real she looked in that casket, and how fake my tears felt compared to everyone else’s. I honestly didn’t care. I remember stealing food from the cafeteria, and eating it in the bathroom. Back then, that was fun. I remember when I used to go to bed before 3 am. I remember when I thought homosexuality was a sin. I remember being half way around the world when my sister confided in my best friend, but not me, that she liked girls. I remember running away from home and changing my mind when I was a block away and thirsty. I remember the pain in my ears as the plane descended and how no one believed me. I remember when all I wanted was to be special. I remember being special and wanting to be normal. I remember the first time waking up next to him, and that smile I could feel inside of him.