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September 29, 2011
I always loved the slightly woodsy taste of icicles broken off the tips of branches. I loved to munch on snow while marching around in my father's boots, pretending to be a princess stranded in a waste land.

As I got older, I loved to sneak out into the bitter night dressed in short skirts that twirled and leggings with stripes and no jacket. I loved to dance on the ice until my sweat thawed the snow in my hair.

I loved to watch the sun kiss each flake of snow as it fell.

"I love you," she whispered.