For When They Still Believe

I can’t remember exactly when I lost it, but there came a time in my childhood when I stopped believing in magic. Maybe it was when I learned the truth about the tooth fairy that day in second grade, or when I stopped daydreaming about Peter Pan and started daydreaming about the boy who sat two rows over in Social Studies. All I know is that at some point in my life the pixie dust lost its sparkle and I was on to the Very Important Issues of middle school. Issues like deciding upon which side of my head my side ponytail should reside. Or which Bryan Adams song best reflected my current state of tweenage angst. …

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