We’d run to the empty field behind our homes carrying boxes to make forts in all the weeds. We would walk to Cabelas and buy half a pound of the tres leches caramel fudge that we paid for with quarters, from the piggy bank that I won with my dad at the carnival. We always rode our bikes up and down the streets of our neighborhood. Road trips with our families to Disneyland and we would beg to ride in the same car. Once a week trips to the gas station to buy root beer and sprite. We would measure our little sisters to see if they could stand underneath the kitchen counter top. We spied on our brothers when they were with their “friends that were girls, not girlfriends”. I would watch my brother leave with his other dad for trips and I’d count down the days until he’d be home. We went to our first concerts together. We set up a tent on the back patio and watched the movie “camp rock”. There were no fences separating our backyards, so we would play night games with all the neighborhood kids.

But now we have both moved away from that special nieghborhood, where we grew up. We have to buy a plane ticket to see each other now. We went back to visit our old homes but it was weird, we were old enough to drive there ourselves and all the houses built fences to separate their backyards and there were no kids playing on the streets.

I liked it better when we lived there.


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