See Orion and Say Nothing.

There was this widow's walk above the entrance to the house I grew up in. You could only get out there by crawling out a window. My mom had this pull out couch that we got rid of, but we kept the mattress for when I had sleep overs. Sometimes we would drag the mattress through the window because it was pretty thin and could bend.

My girlfriends and I would sit out there and fall asleep and wake up in the morning with the sun, you couldn't sleep much past that because it was so bright.

When I got older, there was this gang (I'll get more into them some day) of boys and girls that would sleep over my house. One night Timmy and I sat out on that porch. He told me the story of Orion. He made it up, I think he was tripping, and I believed every word he said. Timmy loved me for a long time before I realized it. I loved him much later when he didn't any more.

Tonight is the kind of night that I wish I could go back and sit on that porch.