Epilogue

Somehow, I made it home, still sobbing as I navigated the DeLorean back through the city I grew up in, without the boy that I had come to the block party with. I was the last person to leave the block party - I couldn't leave Gabe behind. When I walked through the door, my mom gave me a hug. She had already heard about what had happened from Mrs. Saporta. However, when she saw the second-degree burn on my forearm, she insisted that I needed to be taken to the emergency room. I had hardly noticed the burn before. The mental anguish of losing my best friend was far worse than the physical pain from the burn.

Mom drove me to the hospital, but I wasn't there long. There were other people who had been trapped in the shop during the fire that had far worse injuries than I did. Besides, I was sick of the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor. Before long, I was back in my mom's car with gauze wrapped around my forearm, and she drove me home in the dead of night.

I went to bed, desperate for this black, impossible day to be over. However, I couldn't sleep. The moment when the police officer had told me that Gabe was dead kept playing in my head. His famous last words kept repeating too, and they wouldn't stop. I started crying again, and I eventually cried myself to sleep that night, tormented by the thought of how my best friend was gone forever.

The next day, I was supposed to leave for DePaul, but over breakfast, I asked my parents if I could just stay at home. "We already called the school," Mom said. "They understand that this is an emergency for us, and we have special permission to move you into DePaul after all of this is over."

That was the problem. For me, it would never be over. Gabe would always be dead, and until we were both six feet underground, the pain and heartbreak would never go away. There would never be a point when all of this was over and I could finally move to DePaul. All of my hope was gone.

I lay on the couch for a long time, unable to muster up the motivation to do anything. I almost reached for the phone and dialed Gabe's number out of sheer habit, but then I realized what I was doing and where that path would lead me. He wouldn't be able to hang out at Fall Out Bros. or sit across from me at our favorite table at the smoothie shop anymore. All of those memories were agonizing to think about now.

I was about to dial Brendon's number instead, but the phone rang. "Hello?" I said, without any enthusiasm whatsoever.

"Hey Pete," Brendon said, sounding equally dejected. "I heard the news about Gabe."

"I was there where it happened," I said. "I miss him already."

"Me too," Brendon said. "I almost bought a Strawberry Dream for him while I was at the smoothie shop this morning."

"I almost called him and asked him if he wanted to hang out," I said.

Brendon laughed and said, "We're the worst friends ever, aren't we? We can't even remember that Gabe's dead."

That was when I realized that Brendon didn't quite feel the same way about Gabe's death that I did. He hadn't known Gabe like I had. I still talked to him for a little bit longer, but when I started to think that I might break down and cry again in the middle of the conversation, I hung up.

We all knew that Gabe's death was coming, but it didn't make losing him any easier.

Throughout the day, my parents' friends stopped by to talk about what had happened the night before, which they always referred to as "the accident," "the incident," or "Diego and Jeannette's son passed away, isn't that sad?" My mom made a casserole and delivered it to Mrs. Saporta, even though my parents had never been particularly close with Gabe's parents. It was as if Gabe's death had activated some hidden network of parents in Shermer.

Later that afternoon, someone was knocking on the door, but this time, it wasn't one of my parents' friends. "Hi Pete," Patrick said as he handed me two Tupperware containers. "The bottom one is pasta, and the top one has some of my mom's pumpkin squares in it. They're incredible."

"I thought you didn't know how to cook," I said, which was possibly the worst thing that I could have said at that moment.

"I don't," Patrick said. "My mom made the pumpkin squares, and my sister made the pasta."

"This is sweet of you, but why aren't you giving all of this to Gabe's parents?" I asked. "They're the ones who lost a son."

"You lost a best friend," Patrick said. "That's just as bad."

"Patrick!" Mom shouted. "Come on in!"

"It's okay, Mrs. Wentz. I'm just stopping by," Patrick said. He then turned to me and added, "Unless you want me to stay."

"I want you to stay," I said.

Patrick entered the house, left the two Tupperware containers on the counter, and followed me into the basement. He adjusted his glasses, looking adorable as he did so, but even seeing Patrick again couldn't make up for the fact that Gabe was dead. He and I sat side by side on the couch in the basement, and I snuggled toward him, trying to focus on his bright eyes and his soft lips. It wasn't enough to forget Gabe completely, but it was enough to distract me for a while.

Somehow, Patrick knew that I didn't want to talk. He just acted as a shoulder to cry on, which was exactly what I needed at that moment. I cuddled with him, and he held me in his arms as I closed my eyes and wished that I could disappear.

Being with Patrick made me feel a little better, but I couldn't forget about Gabe, not when his face was etched into my skin. Eventually, Patrick said that his mom would wonder where he was if he stayed any longer, so he kissed me gently and then said, "I'm so sorry about Gabe."

As he climbed upstairs, I wondered what exactly he had to be sorry for. It wasn't his fault that Gabe was dead. If I had gone into the shop earlier, before the fire spread, I might have rescued Gabe. Instead, I only had a burn on my arm and a broken heart.

The next day, I slept in, still unable to bring myself to do anything without Gabe by my side. I spent most of the day watching TV, and as I was flipping through channels, trying to find something that didn't remind me of Gabe, I stumbled upon a local news report.

The Shermer Police Department has finally apprehended Mike Pedicone, the primary suspect for the Shermer block party bombing. He has been charged with planting a bomb in the Shermer Town Hall, along with several robberies that took place in Belleville, New Jersey on August 16th and repeated theft from music act I Don't Know How But They Found Me. Pedicone is believed to have bombed the town hall in an attempt to kill Brendon Urie, who along with several others, attempted to stop one of the Belleville robberies. He stole Urie's wallet and upon learning that he lived in Shermer, drove there in order to bomb the town block party and kill Urie. Pedicone did not kill his intended victim, who remained safely in his home due to a broken foot, but many Shermer residents were injured during the bombing, and three were found dead: Katrina Barton, Suzanne McDonough, and Gabriel Saporta. Urie's wallet was returned to him after Pedicone's arrest; however, no other stolen items have been recovered...

I turned off the TV, wondering why Brendon hadn't told me any of this. He probably knew that I was still devastated by Gabe's death, which was true, but it would have been nice to know that Mike Pedicone had finally gotten his justice. Seeing Gabe's face on TV was gut-wrenching for me though. I had gotten used to seeing his face on MTV, but watching a reporter announce that he was dead was a completely different experience. I just wished that Gabe was alive again and next to me, laughing at how stupid he looked up there on the screen.

I eventually got up and checked the mailbox, and to my surprise, there was a letter for me. I saw that it was from Mikey, even though the address was unfamiliar, and I tore it open. I then realized that I would probably have to explain to him that Gabe was dead, and I was more reluctant to slide the letter out of the envelope when I grasped that I couldn't just use Mikey's letters as an escape. However, I did read the letter once I got back to the living room.

Dear Pete,

I'm sorry about what happened to Gabe. I heard about the bombing on the news, and I just can't believe that he's dead. I saw him just two weeks ago! Are you and Brendon okay? How are your other friends doing? What else has been happening? Please write me and tell me that you're okay, Pete.

Mom, Dad, Gerard, and I still haven't replaced everything that Mike Pedicone stole. My comic book collection will never be the same. Gerard moved back into the basement, like the wannabe vampire that he is, but he's going back to art school soon. Frank's already gone back to Rutgers, so Gerard's main reason to stay in Belleville is gone anyways. Eventually, we'll all recover, but it's hard when we don't have the money to deal with something like a robbery.

Also, I just moved into my dorm at Montclair State University! My roommate seems like a really cool guy, even though I don't know him all that well, and freshman orientation is going well so far. It's only the first day, so I spent most of the day unpacking my stuff and chatting with the other boys on my floor. How's life at DePaul?

I really do hope that you're doing well, Pete, especially after Gabe's death. I miss him a lot too, even though I only knew him for a short time. The good news is that the apocalypse seems to be much more localized than we previously suspected. We'll live through this.

Not afraid to walk this world alone,

Mikey Way

I wasn't sure how to feel about Mikey's letter. A part of me was glad that he was doing well, but another part of me hated that Mikey was largely unaffected by everything that had happened. He had lost his comic book collection; I had lost my best friend.

I was about to start writing a reply to Mikey, but my mom stopped me in the hallway. "I just got off the phone with Gabe's mother," she said. "His funeral is scheduled for this Sunday. You're planning to go, right?" I nodded. "Mrs. Saporta was wondering if you wanted to give a eulogy."

I thought about it, and then said, "I'd just start crying in the middle of it." I didn't care what the people at the funeral thought, but I knew that Gabe would have wanted a stylish, simple funeral, not one where his best friend was having a mental breakdown in front of his friends and family.

"It would be nice of you to give a eulogy, but I understand if you don't want to do it," Mom said.

"It's not that I don't want to," I said. "I can't."

"Okay, I'll call Mrs. Saporta back," Mom said. "Maybe after the funeral, we can go to DePaul."

"I'm not sure if I'm ready to go to college yet," I said.

"Pete, you can't stay here forever," Mom said. "The other freshman will be almost done with orientation by Sunday."

"I can't start college right after Gabe's funeral," I said. "Give me more time, Mom."

Mom nodded and walked away, while I put Mikey's letter on my desk to remind myself to write a reply later. Over the next few days, she asked me again and again if I would be ready to go to DePaul after the funeral. I always told her that I wasn't. What I didn't tell her was that I wasn't sure if I ever would be.

The morning of Gabe's funeral, Mom asked me yet again if I was ready to go to DePaul yet. "Mom, Gabe's funeral is today! Can you give me a break?" I exclaimed from my bedroom as I put on one of my usual outfits. My parents and siblings looked strange dressed in all black, but I hardly had to change anything from what I normally wore. Dad drove us to the funeral, with my siblings being irritating as usual in the backseat.

The funeral was supposed to be outside, but it started raining on our way there, so they decided to move it inside the Saportas' synagogue. Everyone started carrying stuff inside, but almost everything had been moved by the time we got there. As soon as I walked inside and saw the pictures of Gabe that his family had hung up, showing him growing up from a baby to a young boy to the amazing, but completely out of his mind, eighteen year old that I knew and loved, I was fighting back tears already. Thankfully, I spotted Brendon and Ryan there. Brendon was still on crutches, but he had gotten a new cast on his broken foot. Brendon waved to me and then asked, "Do you want to sign my cast?"

"Sure," I said. Brendon handed me a Sharpie, and I put my best rock star autograph on his cast.

"That looks great, Pete," Brendon said. "Do you want to sit with Ryan and I?" I nodded, and we all found a spot near the front. Hopefully, I wouldn't have to act as the awkward third wheel friend at a funeral.

As it turned out, a lot of people showed up to Gabe's funeral. The adults in town had always liked Gabe a lot, and although he wasn't exactly popular at Shermer High School, he had quite a few friends who decided to come. I spotted some of Gabe's coworkers too, including the ones who had helped us make the music video. Plenty of members of Gabe's extended family had flown in from New Jersey, and there were even a few strangers with my best friend's face who had come all the way from Uruguay, talking amongst themselves in Spanish.

Patrick showed up right before the funeral started, taking the seat next to mine. "Hi Pete," he said. "Are you okay?"

"I promise I'm not okay," I said. Brendon was sitting next to me, already crying, and the funeral hadn't even started yet. The room was packed, and I wished that Gabe was here to see how many people cared enough about him to come to his funeral. A part of me wanted to attribute the amount of people there to the town's collective guilt over the bombing, but most of them seemed to genuinely care about Gabe. Losing him had created a gaping hole in our lives.

The ceremony began with some light music, which Gabe's family's rabbi said was Gabe's favorite song. We, of course, knew that wasn't true. He would have definitely preferred to listen to Blondie.

The rabbi talked for a while, and I didn't really listen, but as soon as the eulogies began, I was in tears again. Patrick tried to comfort me, but it was no use. I missed Gabe too much, and I wasn't the only one. Gabe's mother broke down in the middle of her eulogy, and so did Gabe's friends from Hot Mess Management. Brendon hobbled up to the front of the room on crutches to give the final eulogy, which was my favorite, even though it made me cry even harder.

"Hi everyone," Brendon began. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Brendon Urie, and I was one of Gabe's closest friends. We met when he moved to Shermer in middle school, and he, Pete Wentz, and I were inseparable after that. I have so many great memories with Gabe, but I know that he would want me to keep it short, so I'll just share one."

He briefly told everyone about the road trip to New Jersey, and how, in the final days of his life, Gabe had made some incredible new friends, tried to stop a robber, and sang along dramatically to my road trip mixtape at every opportunity. Even though it was all over now, Brendon didn't talk about the visions, and most people at the funeral wouldn't have believed him if he had.

"Gabe Saporta was the light in all of our lives, a light that never went out even in..." Brendon teared up, but he continued to speak. "...even in the darkest of northern downpours. He was an inspiration to me, and he was sometimes more like a brother than a friend. More than anything, he loved to have fun, and he would say..." Brendon was still choking up, but he managed to finish off his eulogy. "...he would say that we all wanna party when the funeral ends. So to honor Gabe, let's party!"

Brendon walked haltingly away from the microphone and then burst into tears. "You did a great job, Brendon," Ryan said as he handed his boyfriend a tissue. Brendon wiped his eyes, as as the other people started to leave, he got up and left too, eager to eat and have fun now that the funeral was over.

However, something kept me glued to my seat. As everyone else left, I stayed in my place. "I should probably go, Pete," Patrick said after nearly everyone else was gone. Even my parents had left without me.

"So long and goodnight," I said to Patrick. He walked away, and soon, it was just me and the coffin.

The pallbearers would be there any minute to carry Gabe's coffin through the rain. I knew that I would only have a few minutes alone with the coffin, and even though Gabe was dead and gone, I talked to him, knowing that it might be my last chance before he was buried six feet underground.

I placed one hand on the coffin, and I stumbled over each word, choking on my own tears. I had been smart enough not to wear eyeliner that day, but I was a mess.

"I'm sorry, Gabe," I said. "I'm so sorry that we couldn't stop this from happening. I loved you, you know. I still do, and Brendon said that you were like a light that never went out, but you did go out, and...and...I don't know what I'm saying any more. Brendon's not very good with metaphors, and clearly, neither am I, but you weren't like a light that never went out. You were a getaway car, a rush of blood to the head. You...you brought excitement to my life, and I can never thank you enough for that."

That was when the coffin began to shake. I panicked and jerked my hand away, but the coffin continued to shake back and forth. I must be going crazy, I thought. Everyone had always told me that I was a little bit nuts, but Gabe's death must have pushed me off the edge. I looked around for someone else, hoping for some confirmation that what I had seen was only in my mind, but there was nobody else around, and the coffin was still moving.

Slowly, the coffin creaked open, and a pale, white hand reached over the edge. I would have recognized that hand anywhere. I tried to open up the coffin, but it wouldn't budge. I considered smashing it open, but if I was only hallucinating all of this nonsense, I would have a lot to explain to the pallbearers.

Gabe somehow opened the coffin on his own just as the pallbearers showed up. He looked just as he had before he died, but he was quite a bit paler than usual, and he was wearing the black suit that he was bearing in. Gabe climbed out of the coffin, looking rather confused as he glanced back and forth between my teary-eyed, but smiling, face and the flabbergasted pallbearers. "What the hell is going on?" he asked as he sat on the edge of the coffin.

"I was going to ask you that," I said, but ultimately, I didn't care what magic had brought my best friend back to life. He was alive, and that was what mattered. I ran up to Gabe, gave him a hug, and said, "I missed you so much."

As I backed away, Gabe smiled, revealing two large fangs in his mouth. "I still don't get what's going on," Gabe said. "I just remember all of the smoke in the shop downtown after the explosion, and then I woke up in a coffin."

"Have you heard the news that you're dead?" I asked, still elated that Gabe was back.

"You have to be joking," Gabe said. "This is just some elaborate prank that you and Brendon pulled because of the visions."

"I'm not," I said. "You died in the fire, and your funeral just ended."

"Aww, I missed the opportunity to attend my own funeral?" Gabe complained. He paused for a moment and then said, "Wait, so if I'm dead, then how am I still here? Am I a ghost or something?"

"Judging by the fangs, you're a vampire," I said.

Gabe ran off to the mens' restroom, and I followed him. He looked in the mirror, but he didn't have a reflection. He ran his tongue over his teeth in an attempt to confirm that he really was a vampire, and when he felt the fangs there, he panicked. "Pete!" he shouted. "I can't be a vampire!"

"Why not?" I said. "Vampires will never hurt you." I personally wasn't sure that vampires were even real until Gabe somehow became one, but now, I thought having a vampire friend was the coolest thing ever.

"I'M A VEGAN!" Gabe screamed.

I laughed, but Gabe continued to complain about how being a vampire was completely incompatible with his vegan lifestyle. However, that was a problem that we could solve later. For now, I had Gabe back.

Our reunion didn't last long. The news that Gabe was undead spread rather quickly, even though Gabe himself stayed quiet about it for once, and before long, even Mom knew that Gabe was a vampire. She gave me another day after the funeral to let me hang out with Gabe and pack up again, but the day after that, she insisted that I had to leave for college. "It's now or never, Pete," she said, and even though I didn't have much interest in attending college, I knew that leaving Shermer and moving to the city was for the best.

That morning, Gabe, Patrick, Brendon, and Ryan all gathered at my house. Patrick was leaving for Northwestern that day, and Gabe was driving to Rutgers, but they had both come to my house to say goodbye. Although he and Ryan were still living in town, Brendon had already started at Shermer Community College, and Ryan was thinking of joining him while he continued the job search. All of my friends were going in different directions, so even though Gabe wasn't quite dead, it was still the end of an era.

I loaded the last suitcase in the trunk of my mom's car. Unfortunately, my parents weren't letting me take the DeLorean to college, which none of my friends were particularly happy about. "This isn't fair at all, Mrs. Wentz," Brendon complained to my mom. "Pete won't be able to pick me up in the coolest car in the world anymore." However, no amount of complaining from my friends would change my parents' minds.

Once the suitcases were loaded up, I said goodbye to each of my friends. I hugged Brendon and Ryan, telling both of them how much I would miss them. "Don't worry about it, Pete," Brendon said. "I'll just call you all the time, so you won't miss me at all."

"Besides, you'll be close enough that we can hang out sometimes," Ryan added.

I then walked over to Gabe and gave him a hug too. "Have fun in New Jersey," I said.

Gabe laughed hysterically, showing off his fangs. "'Fun' and 'New Jersey' shouldn't be used in the same sentence, Pete," he said.

"Why are you going to college there then?" I asked.

"I have no idea," Gabe said. "I'll try my best to have fun though, as long as you have the best time ever at DePaul."

"I will!" I exclaimed. I then turned to Patrick, shut my eyes, and kissed him goodbye, not caring who might be watching. "Goodbye Trick," I said to him softly.

"Pete, we'll see each other all the time," Patrick said. "I'll be just a short train ride away."

"I'll still miss you a lot, even if I will probably come to visit you at Northwestern in a few days," I said.

"Okay," Patrick said. "See you soon, Pete."

"Pete!" Dad shouted from the driver's seat. "Let's go!"

I climbed into the back of the car and waved goodbye to all of my friends one last time. As we drove down I-94 and finally left Shemer, I thought of those four faces: Brendon, Ryan, Patrick, and Gabe. In their own way, each of them changed my life in the summer before college. Nothing would have been the same without them, but as they became smaller and smaller and then disappeared altogether, I could feel one stage in my life ending and another beginning.

Summer was on its deathbed.

Summer turned to fall, and fall turned to winter, and seasons change, but people don't. I believed that then, and I believe it now, and the people I knew during the summer before my first year away at college prove it.

Andy Hurley goes to college in Wisconsin, but he still waits tables at Vegan Square when he's on breaks. He and I still aren't close friends, but he and Patrick are, and sometimes when Patrick and I go on dates in Shermer, we'll go to Vegan Square, and Andy will be there. According to Patrick, he also works out frequently and drums for multiple punk bands. He's still this vegan straight edge kid who hates America, hates white people, and hates all this shit as much as he ever has.

Since I left for college, Brendon and Spencer Smith have become closer friends. He still plays drums in the pit orchestra for the community theater, and Brendon and Spencer just about never shut up about theater.

I heard something about Erin Fetherston moving to California to become a fashion designer, but that's about all I know about her. I lost touch with her after she and Gabe broke up.

Elisa Yao, on the other hand, goes to DePaul, and she's now one of my closest friends. We were in the same first-year writing course, and although it was awkward at first, we found out that we have a lot in common. Some of my friends back home think that our friendship is pretty odd, but I love that Patrick has two people looking out for him.

Gabe's friends from Hot Mess Management went in all kinds of different directions after that summer. Perhaps because of their shared experience of appearing in a rather famous MTV music video, they remained close, even as they went to college in places as far apart as Florida and New York City.

Coach Lisa is, as far as I know, still teaching PE at Shermer High School and coaching the soccer team. She also still makes her players wear yellow uniforms, but that's not my problem anymore.

My parents write me letters all the time, but they're not suffering from empty nest syndrome yet. Hillary and Andrew keep them busy, and to my horror, my siblings will be old enough to drive the DeLorean before too long. Mom is still a guidance counselor, and she asks about Patrick more often than I would like. Dad is still a lawyer who invests in struggling car companies. Hillary and Andrew are still the two most annoying people on earth.

Joe Trohman is a senior at Shermer High School now, and he still works at Fall Out Bros. Pizza. He's a better delivery man that I ever was. Joe delivered pizza to my house once while I was on break, and we got a chance to catch up a little bit. Apparently, everything is still going well at Fall Out Bros., and I think that Joe has a bright future ahead of him.

Ray Toro goes to William Paterson University, where he's studying film. I rarely get the chance to talk to him directly, but I've heard about his life away at college from Mikey. He and Mikey stay connected through long phone conversations every Thursday.

Mike Pedicone was convicted of all of the crimes he was charged of, and he was sentenced to life in prison. When I saw that on TV, it made me feel a little bit better, but no prison sentence could ever make up for the fact that he had ruined the lives of so many people that I loved.

The Ways are still recovering from the effects of having their house robbed. They still haven't replaced the family computer. I've only kept in touch with Mikey, but I frequently hear about the rest of his family in his letters. Gerard is graduating from his art school in New York this spring, but the comic that he's working on hasn't gone anywhere. He and Frank are still together. They're talking about moving in together after they both graduate, which will finally get Gerard out of the basement.

Dallon Weekes and Ryan Seaman faded into obscurity after their final concert. Maybe they'll become popular again in thirty years, but I doubt it.

Billie Joe Armstrong still owns Fall Out Bros. Pizza. Every time I come back to Shermer, I stop there to see him. He runs the restaurant exactly as he did when I worked there, even putting up another sign that said, "No racism, no sexism, no homophobia." It probably lost him a few customers and gained him many more. His pizza is still delicious, and I hope that Billie will make sure that Fall Out Bros. plays loud punk music and serves tasty Chicago-style pizza for all eternity.

Mikey and I write letters back and forth all the time, and even though we're both in college now, we never keep secrets from each other. He's the one person that I can never lie to. Mikey goes to Montclair State University, where he's made many friends, including a girl named Kristin. He gushes about Kristin constantly in his letters, but I don't blame him. I did the same thing when I first met Patrick.

Shortly after I left for college, Brendon's parents found out about his relationship with Ryan, and they kicked him out. Brendon told me over the phone that it was "more of a mutual decision," but I didn't believe him for a second. Thankfully, Brendon and Ryan had enough saved up to rent an apartment, so that's where they, along with Penny Lane, live now. They're both working full-time at the smoothie shop while attending Shermer Community College. Brendon also sings for tips and acts in whatever plays he can at the community theater. It's all pretty impressive, and Brendon is much happier now that he doesn't have to hide his atheism or his sexual orientation from his parents. Ryan's doing well too. I think their relationship will work, as long as Ryan doesn't leave Brendon in Cape Town.

Patrick and I are still together. He's the American beauty to my American psycho. He's excelling at Northwestern, even though he's still debating on whether college is right for him. I take the train to visit him all the time, to the point where I might as well just go to Northwestern myself. He's still beautiful, smart, and talented, and I know that will take him far. He also still drinks a lot of green tea for some reason.

Gabe goes to Rutgers University, and although I miss him, I talk to him on the phone all the time. Even though people sometimes give him strange looks when they see his fangs, Gabe's made lots of new friends, and he's probably flirted with every single student on campus by this point. When he comes to visit, he adds plenty of excitement to my normally dull life.

I hope he finds his William Beckett someday.

As for me, I've found that college is a lot better than high school, although that's not a very high bar. I've made lots of golden new friends, but I haven't forgotten the old ones. A part of me will always be lost in the summer when my world came crashing down.

What did summer ever mean to me?

It meant spending long hours at Fall Out Bros. Pizza, waiting to see my friends again. It meant watching MTV and hoping that one particular video wouldn't play again. It meant listening to my favorite mixtapes. It meant going to arcades and musicals and soccer games. It meant making friends that I would keep for the rest of my life. It meant freedom. It meant love.

It meant everything.