Every year around this time I get this incredible urge to go to Provincetown. I've really only been there a small handful of times, but even the simplest memories there run deep. Sometimes, especially in February and March, I'm completely consumed with longing for the empty streets, the vast expanses of cold sand and water, the feminist craft shops, the queer bookstores, the art galleries, the hundreds of bizarre and beautiful things everywhere you look...
It almost hurts, I want to go back so badly.
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