Last summer, things were not this complicated. There was no death, no sickness, no worry. There was no drama, or hate, or hurt. I wasn't bitter, or moody.
I was in love.
All I needed was him, Waterhole Cove, and a pair of waders.
When I wasn't in Tennessee, I was with you. My fondest memories are of us taking off each others waders, daring each
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