We were about six when we sat behind the slides next to each other, leaving absolutely no space between us—or space between our fingers, for that matter. Your hands were always so warm, mine were the opposite, just my luck. Your thin pink lips gently started peeling apart, showing off those angel white teeth, giving me the we’ll- last- forever- look. You looked into my eyes, kissed my cheek, and gripped my hand tighter.
We were about sixteen when we stood in front of your family van, leaving enough space between us to fit a football field—or at least that’s how distant I felt in my heart. You looked so unhurt and happy, while I looked like a total wreck, as usual. Your car door stretched out, showing off all your packed up luggage, you giving me the I- guess- this- is- goodbye- look. You looked into my eyes, kissed my cheek, and lost grip of my hand.