I had wanted to see a shooting star for years. Literally. I remember being a young kid and fascinated with the stars; my bedroom in New York had a particularly good view. Stars seem to come out more vividly over the ocean, I guess. But even after all those years I was never able to see a genuine shooting star until the summer after we graduated high school. Brynn and Brett's parents took a bunch of us on a houseboat in Lake Cumberland. It was beautiful. Dean and I were kind-of-sort-of-but-not-really dating, and the night we ended the nothingness we really had (let's be real) we sat on the top deck of the boat watching the stars.

For a moment we both had nothing left to say and then there it was, my first shooting star. I was absolutely speechless. It seemed the perfect time for some reason. And I've yet to see one again.