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  • viewing 48 posts filed under #bellyconradedit
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    Dear Belly,

    Firstly, I don’t even know if I should be writing you, if this is allowed. If it’s not, just say so. I’ll understand. I should be memorizing the cardiovascular system, but I’d rather be writing you.

    Sometimes I try to picture what your life is like over there. I imagine you in a little cafe, drinking…What does Belly in Paris drink? Café au lait with lots of sugar? Along with some disgustingly sweet pastry? Or maybe Sour Patch Kids. Do they have those in Paris? I bet if they do, you’ve found them. Or maybe French Belly doesn’t eat junk food. You’re probably different over there.

    I bet Paris is beautiful during the holidays. I hear your staying there for Christmas. I guess that means you’re happy. I like picturing that. Well, Merry Christmas, Belly. I hope Paris is everything you dreamed it would be.

    Conrad

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    My heart’s pounding a million trillion times a minute. I’ve never felt more alive. Anger, sadness, joy. He makes me feel all of it. No one else has that effect on me. No one.

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    He got me the big unicorn…and he got me my mom, Taylor.

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    When I was little, I used to think that Conrad would appear out of thin air if I was thinking about him.