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Show your work

June 24, 2010

I scribble solutions on the backs of envelopes, develop complicated theorems that explain the intersection of intellectual and physical desire, and write notes on my wrist: RED (like the flag), SAFE (as I’d like to keep my heart), PATIENCE (I hate this the most).

When I tire of problem-solving, I dance a slow waltz with tears unbound by geometry and calculus. The x and y variables don’t yield easy answers, and my heart breaks when my head can’t solve the problem.

“Show your work,” my math teacher said, and I do. I do. I do.

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