I remember a particular day two years ago (wow I didn't realize it was that long ago until I wrote it just now), a day in New York city. It was March 15th to be exact. It was my first full day in New York; I had gone there with my choir to sing in Carnegie hall. My mom and a few other family members also came up to enjoy this experience with me. On this particular day I took my first subway.
I went on my first ferry ride.
I had really cold toes because my shoes weren't warm enough.
I took my jacket off so I would look cute in pictures even though it was so cold.
I forced conversations.
I smiled a lot.
I observed sadness on a friend's face
I found out the statue of liberty isn't as tall as it looks on TV.
I learned the meaning of "big city".
I watched my mom light up like a 5 year old when she saw the sights in New York.
I made memories with people who would eventually become some of my best friends.
I felt the history of our country.
I felt passionate about anything and everything.
And today, my SweetTarts are gone but I'm still sitting at my computer in my empty apartment, and I'm reliving all of those feelings.