But the worse thing about growing up and getting older, is the way my friends just sort of drifted away. It is sad how someone can mean so much to you, and be such an important part of your life, and then, because of time, or other uncontrollable circumstances, you never see them again. For whatever reason they are gone, and you miss them, and everyday you hope and pray that you will see them again, if only for a second. But they go on without ever thinking of you, or knowing how much they have meant, or just how beautiful they are, and how your life will never be what you want it to be without them
—  Adam Stanley  All My Sins Remembered

Again, we are lying in the grass in her front yard. I think it was in 1990, and it had to be at least October, because there were yellow leaves all around us, and her pale cheeks were red from the cold. We were so close I could feel the heat of her exhaled breath on my face. Only inches from each others lips, we are forever fixed in this position, like two, separate worlds, who are always on the verge of falling into the deepest parts of each other. Our bodies were nearly imperceptible, only faint  brushstrokes, captured in once vibrant, now faded oils on the vast emptiness of an unfinished canvas, forever poised on the edge of fate’s crumbling precipice.
“Ever wonder what you will look like when you’re older?” she asked.
“Not really.” “I see myself as a tall woman who always wears dresses and high heels.”
“You’re almost fifteen and you’re only 5’2, I don’t see you growing much more,” I said.
“I mean, I know I wont be tall, but it’s just how I see myself.”
“I don’t suppose I see myself at all.”
“Maybe it’s too scary.” she said.
“You could be afraid of what you’ll see. I am,” she said. She lay back in the grass. Her hair was long and straight and it spilled around her as if she were underwater.

                       ~~Adam Stanley  All My Sins Remembered