I saw herat an open mic night in Harlem.I could tell it was her first time performing spoken word.Sweat trickled down her forehead as the words escaped her mouth. I saw herstumbling outside a bar in Brooklyn, kissing dragon's breath.She lit a joint like It was a cigarette and watched lovers quarrel, pretendingto be the source of their troubles. She was fascinated by people in love,Choosing someone over solitude was a foreign concept. I saw herholding hands with a man at Echo Park and it caught me off guard.The only thing she hated more than Los Angeles was men.  I put down my phone and remembered,there's always time to become the person you already are. Evany Martinez