i remember us. just now. when we were around 13 years old. sneaking out of school to hide-out at your dad's house. stealing nips of hard alcohol from his bar and smoking cigarettes out your bedroom window. we were two little girls on fire. ready to burst through childhood into the world. kicking and screaming. all the way. in those days we weren't afraid of anything. of falling down hard onto the concrete. or the limitless dangerous hands of boys. the sounds of our own voices. we drank coffee and swore like truckers. kissed our mothers and never missed curfew. best friends since the moment we met. best friends for life, we always said. neither one of us knew, that, wouldn't be so long. not long, no, not, enough.