It’s hard to capture the relationship Tina and I had in a few paragraphs. We met in high school and quickly became very close. Tina was worldly in a way few fifteen year olds are. She’d been to and returned from rehab, she was into Velvet Underground and Al Jolson and had a vinyl collection of everything inbetween, occupying 20 milk crates or more. And she had loads of bookshelves filled with journals and poetry that she regularly destroyed to make room for the new words buzzing around in her mind. I loved her and envied her ability to...