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  • I’d never lived in a place with stairs before.
    But, I guess if we’re talking change, I’d never lived in an apartment before, period.
    Never had a pool, never had a car, never learned to drive. I’d never packed my most valuable possessions in cardboard boxes.
    I’d never had to share my home building with so many people before.
    Never lived with kids, or college students, or couples that laugh so loud that you can hear them through the floorboards.
    I’d never lived outside my house.
    Never lived without all my books, my giant window, or the abandoned playhouse my dad had built for me when I was seven. Never without the backyard of gardens, filled with my mom’s flowers, or the fruit and vegetable garden I gave up on when I was nine. Never without the blue and brown walls layered over atrociously bright yellow, that we painted over when I was thirteen. Never without history.
    I’d never lived in a place with stairs before.
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