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When this is over, I want my sister and my friend Danielle and I to go to Paris after all, and I want my mom to come too, and my sister-in-law, and her sister and her mom, and my other college roommate, and anyone else who wants to join in.

I want to get the tattoo I’ve been thinking about for so long and I want to spend time writing in beautiful places. I want to hug the people I work with and the kids I know so well.

I want to go to the dentist regularly and order new glasses right when I need them. I want to get an MRI for my hamstring so I can start running again.

I want to march all up and down this nation in the name of healthcare equality for every single person living here.

I want to buy a house and plant a garden in the backyard, start having long, earnest conversations about how to keep furry vegetable thieves away from my carrots, uninterested in my kale.

I want to spend more time with the people I adore. I want to frequently make the 45-minute drive over the hill to visit those who have been part of my heart-home for nearly 20 years. When I get there, I want to hug them something fierce.

When this is over, I want to love so fully that the earth spins right off of its fine axis, sends us into space, where the old rules are simply not enough for a world made completely new.

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