We picked up a rock one day
At the end of the road next to that orange sign
That always made you think that maybe they’d continue the road
If only someone cared enough to do it
We were young, like 16 or maybe 17 an age when we could feel the oncoming dread of life
But we hadn’t experienced it yet
We marveled at it for no other reason than it was the right kind of magnificent
In reality it was a pretty normal rock
We sat out at the end of the road for an hour and talked about what our lives would look like
The kids who would eventually fill our separate lives until they too left their suburbs behind
We always swore that we wouldn’t forget that day
It was too magical
But I have to confess to you
I forgot
I didn’t choose to forget it or do so in a rebellious act of growing up
Time passed and we got old
And there wasn’t really anything we could do about it
It was just another remnant of a childhood lived with other people
Before I knew the ones, I would choose to make a life with
And that memory would drown in a sea of clouding memories of my childhood with you
But then, today I found the rock
We carved our initials into it trying to make the moment last longer than we did
Our fleeting lives were nothing compared to the eons this little rock had seen
I thought about calling you up and asking
“You remember when we found this thing?  The orange sign, how we swore we would always remember it?”
But I didn’t
We haven’t talked in a while and even though you probably know me better than anyone else in my life
It still feels too personal
So I guess if you remember the rock sometimes too
Call me
I’m still here