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My friend, the moon

When I was little, my parents used to have a car that had two windows in the roof, one above the front seats and one above the back seats.

I spent many car-rides trying to decipher the shapes in the clouds and wondering what secrets the stars were holding. Sometimes I would even childishly wonder why the moon was always following me - I might have even called her my friend once upon a time.

I don't know when I stopped thinking of her as such - was that before or after we got another car? Would she accept my friendship once more if I asked her?

I must admit, I still sometimes puzzle whether she really is following me or not, as naive as it sounds. I truly hope I'll never lose the bit of childish wonder I have nestled deeply in my heart, but at the same time I'm afraid I will.

I guess I should really befriend the boom again before it's too late.
                                                                                       ~Please watch over me

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