The Summer of 16

My best friend and I hold each other’s hair as we cry.

Her’s is the color of the sun.

“Is everything supposed to be this hard?” She asks me.

“I don’t think so.”

I rub my hands down the soft cotton of her shirt as we attempt to ground each other.

The sound of the ocean far behind is

Silenced by the weight of all of our feelings.

My eyes blur as I look up from her shoulder, searching for something to tell me what to do.

I hold on tightly, knowing that these moments are so important.

We sit there in an agreed quiet,

Until I race to the fridge to grab her a water.

Desperate for anything that could give her some kind of distraction.

Years later,

We go on. Still here and looking at each other,

Searching our faces for something that will dull the memory.

Fighting against something that happened 9 years ago.