They danced in the streets, and strutted down hills on heels sharpened by determination, as flowers dangled upon arms entwined with mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, friends, hopes, dreams, fears, and unknowns.

Red-smeared lips and mascara-washed eyes held best friends close. Some cried in their dorm rooms amid boxes of detritus, and others looked stoically ahead at nothing but the awaiting future. Night, gin, and vodka passed fire-brigade-like from hand to hand down a hallway filled with keep-in-touches, be-goods, and I-will-never-forget-yous. Maybe the liquor soothed the loss, but night and fire cannot be doused. They only morphed into daylight.

A few proposed, thinking life without the other offered less meaning and purpose, and maybe a “yes” was given, or maybe “no”, as always the way. Others went down on old beaus in the back of cars parked on a hill in the middle of the night, thinking that moment would turn…