It wasnt that long ago that I was 18, drinking vodka from a water bottle and chasing it with a 2 liter of coke, both of which got passed around tbe car in the parking ramp in that order, before popping a piece of gum and non chalantly getting big black X’s drawn on my hands by the bouncer at first ave on any Saturday night I didn’t have to work. And it was the best. They played the music no one else did, there was always a cute boy and his not cute friend, or there was that person you sorta knew and they were sorta drunk too, and everyone would dance like we were born to be that young forever. Tonight, First Avenue is ending TML, its weekly dance night since 2006. And its sad, but its also ok because growing up means saying goodbye. So goodbye Too Much Love, goodbye to the boy with the fake id that earned me my only ‘I got kicked out’ story, goodbye to the break dance floor that used to be on the stage, goodbye to the dj booth that used to be in the middle ofthe floor, goodbye to the cute boys I wanted to dance with and the ones that I did, and the one that never called, and the one I should have kissed, and the one I did. Goodbye to the ones my friends kissed. Goodbye to getting ready with your best friends and laughing in the bathroom. Goodbye to the fake eyelashes that fell on the floor. Goodbye to the girl I was and the people we were. Goodbye to being 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, and even 23. You cant repeat the past but you can cherish it.