My vacation, as I vaguely remember, went like this: wake up, go outside, drink coffee, sleep at dawn. I frequently started my days at 1 PM, as my spirit loved staying conscious until sunrise. The mosque's morning prayer became my reminder to sleep. I figured this was unhealthy, but I decided not to stress much to correct myself. It's winter break—loosen up! I thought to myself every night, although, in turn, it left me groggy at our family hangouts. We frequented outside in different places: Boulevard World, malls, a Christmas party, a New Year's party. I enjoyed every single one of them. I often spent a lot of money on charms, books, and toys. I'd even been practicing a unique percussion instrument I got from the African section in Boulevard World. Afterwards, we'd always stop by a cafe, my favorite part.

For a few years now, I'd enjoyed my evening coffee dates with my family. I sometimes felt awkward with them at home, but it was different at these cafes. It was as though the coffee-filled air transported us to an entirely different universe. We'd drink and talk and laugh---not that we didn't do this at home too. Somehow, I just felt more at ease. My home held a lot of bad feelings for me, to the point that I'd sometimes accidentally sound irritated to my parents. With the matcha drink in my hand, I looked at my parents, wondering if I could still have these moments with them in the future. I looked at my brothers and wondered what kind of relationship I could have with them in the future. Then, I looked at myself and wondered what I would be like in the future. There went the last sip of my matcha latte.