I finally had a chance to go back to the place that started it all. It was never simply an hotel. No, it was two towers with winding hallways that stretched the length of blocks and blocks. It is how I came to know the rainy city I go to school now- how I came to know where I belong, what truly matters, and why things have to change and hurt and grow in this world. I realize I am a different person than the girl that was me when I frequented the hotel every year in the old springs. Was that girl even named MacKenzie? She was sad and trying to live for herself. But the late nights, the games that went on behind and between open suite doors, and the familiar smell of the carpet (which is the same, by the way, even years later) all shaped me into the girl that writes and still stares out the window today. I am simply a happier, more grown-up version of that girl, but so much more free, I feel. The one thing I cannot decide, however, is whether keeping on to these things is holding me back from even more freedom...