Right now, I am sitting in a coffee shop drinking cinnamon tea, listening to Little People in my headphones in an attempt to block out the open mic hip hop madness surrounding me. The hollows of my body vibrate with the bass lines, my ears catch the words "fuck" and "fuckin'" every few seconds. My friend Logan sits across from me reading on his tablet. Engrossed in our own tasks, we do not talk, but instead nod with the beat and carry on. There's energy here. The smell of coffee beans roasting is overwhelming. The table top hosts congealing rings of coffee from guests gone before me. I am wearing an over-sized sweater and cut-off jeans. My friend GA hugs me. The moment is electric, pulsing with the sadness and ecstasy of finality. Any moment now, I'll miss this. I'll realize that my purpose here at this place in time is coming to a close. It's going to pass, and I'll be somewhere else with new people. I'll have new adventures, and I'll have to grow.
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