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learning to drive

When I was little, I lived by the beach and on a really tall hill. When I rode my scooter to school, I’d rest both my feet on the board and let the weight of my backpack carry me all the way to the bottom. I no longer own a scooter and learning to drive a car gives me a sense of anxious freedom. My dad says the heel of your foot should always be by the brakes and that each driver will eventually get a hang of how much pressure to apply on the gas pedal.

I’ve been feeling both terribly old and like a child lately, as if the last 365 enveloped another world but also never even happened at all. My reflection and the way I dress seem unrecognizable, and the weight of a one shoulder bag isn’t as reassuring. This picture makes it look like I still live on a hill, and in 2 months, I will be a walk from the beach again. And as much as I am liking having more control of how fast I go, I miss not feeling safest with my foot on the brakes.

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