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A person with dark curly hair in the reflection of a car's rearview mirror. Another person's hand cradles their face.

For some people, it’s with a high school boyfriend in the back of his Honda Civic. For others, it’s with a stranger you met in college, or even on your wedding night with your new spouse.

Two people about to kiss and holding each other's faces. There's a glass brick wall behind them.

For as long as I can remember, the idea of ‘family’ has been an entanglement of comfort and tension — years of feeling torn between what I thought a family should be and what it actually felt like.

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