The dead center of the most dangerous

Sometimes, I feel like I grew up far too quickly.

I'm seventeen years old, a college student majoring in pre-vet and my boyfriend is going to ask me to marry him. I drive a two hour commute every day and ten hours on the weekends, to and from Ocala, and I compete nationally with my horse.

I am aware of finances and the price of gasoline because I have to be, I am the most independent person I know. I do my own laundry, I clean, I cook, I look after my animals, I make my own appointments and I drive myself to them.

But last night, I was just a girl and you were just a boy, and we were just kissing like teenagers are supposed to. My first car, the Mustang engine revving and the scent of you that has had me intoxicated for years, and blue jeans and the radio and your mouth against mine. It was such a perfect moment, the one I know I'll think of when years pass and I say, "Where was I at seventeen?" I won't remember $3.00 a gallon or Leia gets 1.5 cups of food twice a day. I'll remember that it was hot in April and that you kissed me like I've never been kissed before.

I love you so much, my Canis. Thank you for giving me this.