(TOM POV) (Italics are memories)

I sat in my rocking chair, staring out at the field. On nights like these, I liked to reminisce.

I sat in bed. It was my fifteenth birthday, and I was spending it cooped up in my room. Fifteen was only a number in between ten and twenty, so why not waste my time thinking of Edd? I mean, he's my best friend. And crush.

I remember that the phone pinged, and it was Edd texting me, asking to meet up so we could go out for a birthday dinner. Then I thought of the first time I didn't have a birthday dinner with him.

I sat at the table, smiling at my girlfriend. It was my twenty-second birthday, so she convinced me to go out for dinner. But the entire time, I was thinking about Edd. That boy also told me to go out, but I could tell that he was upset we couldn't spend this time together. Together, we were on fire, and if we wanted to go to Mars and back, no one could stop us.

I sigh, thinking of how foolish I was. Why didn't I go with him? Maybe I wouldn't have ended up like this.

My thirty- third birthday. I sat in my room, holding my wife close. I listened to her soft breathing as she slept, instinctively holding where our child. I smiled, wondering how he would look. He'd probably have my eyes and her soft brown hair. Brown hair. Who else do I know that has brown hair? Edd. I sigh, thinking of how I would tell my friend about my new child. Would he be happy? Probably. It's a best friend's job to be happy for friends.

I think of when I broke the news to Edd. I recall the flash of heartbreak in his eyes before he smiled and congratulated me. Maybe if I had that smile with me, I wouldn't have fallen into a crisis.

My forty-fifth birthday was spent wondering what I had accomplished. Had I done anything noteworthy? Well, I had two children. They both reminded me of Edd. Oh, Edd. If only I had asked him out when we were kids. Then I wouldn't be so down.

I remember my dinner for my fifteenth birthday. I had nearly built up the courage to ask him out, but I didn't. I hated myself for it, and wasted my time.

Sixty-eighth birthday. What happened to sixty-seven? Time is flying by. My children are adults now, and looking to me for guidance. When did I become wise? Never. Older doesn't mean wiser, and, oh, I'm old.

Today is my ninety-ninth birthday, and I can't help but wonder if I'll die soon. Thanks to my hearing aid, I hear a ping. I look at my phone. I see a text. It's from Edd. "Happy birthday! Want to go get dinner?" Just like my fifteenth birthday. And my twenty-second birthday. And my thirty-third, and forty-fifth, and sixty-eighth. Were those really all different days? I could have sworn that every day was my fifteenth birthday. I smile. "Sure," I reply. "I only got one more year."