I took a walk with a friend last night, we stopped at the quick stop to get drinks; I grabbed myself a redbull and two tall boys. We drove to the canyons; the way their the music played as he started on about work, life and friends. I nodded and added my own thoughts.
 We get to the canyon and get out; we start walking as the pain starts in my calves as I feel the burn in my lungs while we walk, he opens his tall boy and starts drinking, I'm still drinking my redbull.
half way up; I take off my crewneck and he still talking about work, losses and wins. It’s the same conversation we've had a few times now spread out over days, weeks and even years as this point but it's different because its May 12th 2026 and we are both the oldest we are going to be in the moment. Also, I'm still drinking my redbull.
 We stop at a site and he takes off his own hoddie and I finish my redbull, my tall boy sits unopened in the bag I'm holding as we start up again; he starts up on getting out of this town, this state. That's not new, we've had that same common goal since we started talking in high school; nearly 10 years ago or so for me. Maybe more; he graduated a year before I did.
I finally open my tall boy, which spills down my hands since it was being shaken in the bag as I work on getting it cleaned up. We laugh and share a few jokes, as we continue to walk up the canyon. Its green and full of life again; the breeze feels amazing as I take a deep breath, the lack of air in the lungs hurts but the tall boy helps or the breeze does or maybe it's just being outside.
He speaks on buying a house in town; having his own space he says. But still wanting to leave, in a few months maybe October he will be gone. It’s a consent reminder in our friendship. It's all temporary. This won't be our lives forever, taking walks up the canyon, hashing over old conversations and drinking tall boys on a Tuesdays night.
He will leave and I will stay because one of us has to get out of here and by god, it has to be him.
 Its darker now, so we turn around back to the car, his tall boy is empty and mine is half way. I'm focused on not tripping over my own feet while finishing my drink and he's speaking on what he should do next.
 We get to the bottom; I finish my drink and throw it away, we get in the car and drive down the rest of the canyon; Ethel Cain blares through the speakers as we both lock in on the chorus as we drive through the streets.
 He parks outside my apartment building and I grab my things, we say goodnight and as I shut the door and make my way inside.
Two tall boys and a walk up the canyons with a friend who in a blink will be gone and all I will have is memories on snapchat and the taste of tall boys and smoke to remind me he was once here, we shared a lifetime together and one of us got out of here and by god; it has to be him.