Remember that time we went hiking in Shenandoah? And our dirty old worn out chucks hung over the edge of that enormous rock we sat on? Our friends thought we were crazy because our legs were dangling off the side of the cliff. But we loved it. We were rebels, we were adventurers, and we loved it.
We mastered the art of exploration as we walked with big sticks and climbed whatever we could. We ran through the woods ahead of everyone to be the first to conquer all that we came across. It was all so real, but even then we were on a broken bridge of friendship, barely hanging on.
You loved movies and I loved reading. I had peace strung around my neck, and you were a fearless fighter. And I always hoped the best for you, being the older one, but in a way I always looked up to you. Even now, even though we’re entirely different in our thoughts, actions and aspirations, I find that I’m a lot like you, and it makes me smile. I miss my 16th year.