The first time she leaves, it's because she had to. After all, her father had just gotten a promotion to move to the other side of the country. And honestly, she was happy about it. Sad, but happy. It's not every day that your dad tells you that you're going to move to California and live in a mansion on the edge of the ocean. But she says to me, I'll come back. I'll be back all the time, whenever I can, and we'll have sleepovers and eat ice cream sandwiches for breakfast, lunch, and dinner until we're sick and make friendship bracelets and splash each other in the pool and we'll be best friends, just like right now.

She told me nothing would change. She handed me a promise perched on a holy pedestal, and I worshipped it every day, praying that tomorrow would be the day she came back. And I let her go.