And things were back to normal except we were just friends.

When I was done reading the poem, everyone was quiet. A very sad quiet. But the amazing thing was that it wasn't a bad sad at all. It was just something that made everyone look around at each other and know that they were there.

Things change and friends leave and life doesn't stop for anybody

And I think they knew. Not anything specific really. They just knew. And I think that's all you can ever ask from a friend.

I don't remember where we were walking to or where we were walking from. I don't even remember the season. I just remember walking between them and feeling for the first time that I belonged somewhere.

On that piece of white paper, Sam wrote, "Write about me sometime." And I typed back to her, standing right there in her bedroom. I just typed. "I will."And I felt good that those were the first two words that I ever typed on my new old typewriter that Sam gave me. We just sat there quiet for a moment, and she smiled. And I moved to the typewriter again, and I wrote something. "I love you too.

I know we didn't accomplish anything, but it felt great to sit there and talk about our place in things.