One night I went to a party,

Not too extravagant,

Not too small.

But a substantial gathering,

A group of individuals that care about one another enough,

To celebrate the day of birth of one of their own.

I remember sitting there,

Watching from the sidelines.

Their laughter,

Shining eyes,

Reminiscing about these great times.

After a few hours,

They were all so close to intoxicated

Roaring came from their mouths

Harmonizing with the thumping music.

With rosy cheeks,

One pulled me aside,

Barefoot

In a tank top

And shorts.

He asked me what I wanted to be.

I exclaimed,

But I'm only fifteen.

He asked,

What do you like? What are your hobbies?

I stumbled over my response, wondering.

Yet, one inquiry stuck out to me

He asked,

What would you never be unhappy to wake up and do at three o clock in the morning?

With a seemingly unassuming question,

My mind roared to life,

Becoming chaotic in its hunt for answers,

Leaving me confused,

At fifteen,

Wondering,

What am I going to do?