Death during adolescence feels unfair. We're young. We're invincible. Death is supposed to come with old age. When death breaks into our lives and steals our innocence, its finality leaves us unnaturally older. There are too many elderly young people.

Growing up sometimes forces us to confront the distance between our childhood hope and the truth.

Our relationship, our shared support, our consistency, is unrivaled by any other connection.

We are troubled, but we have hope and tremendous promise.

During adolescence, friends bring an intimate quality of support that can't be provided by any adult.

One of the blessings of becoming an adult is finally seeing my mom and dad as people, not just parents.

The comfort of our peer-connections is reflected in our most honest and direct hand-holding. When we trip, they are the first ones to pull us back up.