You’d think I’d remember the good parts the most clearly, right? That those cherished memories would’ve been etched in my mind forever so I could, at least, relive those last moments of my childhood when I most needed them.
Nope. Not fair, but still, nope.
The night had reached that wonderful time when parents went to bed and the sleepover went on, the door to my bedroom closed and our voices lowered. We could stay up for hours this way and often did. It made me sad to know this was the last time, that from now on I’d be staying up late without anyone else for company on Friday nights, no one to read comics with by flashlight or ask, “Are you still awake?” long after we should’ve been.
