“I miss how close we used to be, and I hate that I’ve caused distance. It truly kills me.” “You’re growing up, Junebug,” I tell her. “It’s natural. Lullabies and bedtime stories don’t last forever.” She smiles softly, almost sadly. “Growing up isn’t the same as outgrowing. I’ll never be too old for the rainbow song.” My heart continues to skip its strange, unfamiliar beats, and I swallow through my nod.
