I​ ​remember​ ​playing​ ​tag,​ ​we​ ​were​ ​six​ ​years​ ​old​ ​at​ ​most​ ​and​ ​running​ ​around​ ​my​ ​backyard.

"Tag,​ ​you're​ ​it."

You​ ​were​ ​running​ ​after​ ​me,​ ​you​ ​were​ ​always​ ​faster​ ​than​ ​me,​ ​so​ ​no​ ​wonder​ ​you​ ​always​ ​won.​ ​But that​ ​particular​ ​Wednesday​ ​afternoon​ ​I​ ​outran​ ​you​ ​by​ ​just​ ​a​ ​little.​ ​I​ ​remember​ ​the​ ​wind​ ​blowing through​ ​my​ ​curls,​ ​you​ ​loved​ ​my​ ​curls.

Then​ ​I​ ​tumbled,​ ​fell​ ​to​ ​the​ ​ground,​ ​and​ ​like​ ​usual​ ​it​ ​left​ ​a​ ​big​ ​grass​ ​stain​ ​on​ ​my​ ​jeans.​ ​But​ ​an unusual​ ​pain​ ​shot​ ​to​ ​my​ ​leg​ ​as​ ​I​ ​crashed​ ​to​ ​the​ ​ground.

My​ ​first​ ​time​ ​breaking​ ​a​ ​bone,​ ​one​ ​of​ ​many​ ​firsts​ ​with​ ​you.