everything that's good either gets taken away or i push it way. i still think about my best friend sometimes. i'd spin around on a tire at his house until i couldn't see straight and we never could figure out why we weren't aloud to have sleepovers. i looked for his name in a yellow book, but he was lost with the others. i can't remember the day he moved away, but i can remember what i bought at his family's last garage sale.