Rain. Gray skies… chilled weather. Damp. Walking through a drizzle in the blue hooded sweatshirt I wore everyday, the one where I can hear the zipper bouncing against my hip – a friend always referred to it as my “80’s jacket.” All the bars I liked were dive bars, I’d walk in for their 11 pm happy hours and cut through the cigarette smoke and feel a wave of relief and letting go when I’d see my friends sitting there. Have a drink or two while talking about the random stupid stuff that happens in everyone’s life – and it feels comfortable, a sense of belonging. After a couple drinks, I look around and though it’s like any other group of 20-somethings huddled together in a bar, I feel potential, that any one of these friends I’m with have the ability to do something incredible, and perhaps it’s even me. And those thoughts are strong enough to have me leave with a smile. And even though it’s raining, cold, and bleak there’s still the feeling that Seattle is an unbelievable place.

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