I am both the casualty and consequence of many dichotomies. I remain whole, yet I am simultaneously divided, torn between the very things that bind me: between the reality of adulthood and the image of it; between my need to grow roots and my desire to ; between the desire for independence and the longing for another; between the diverse and persuasive avenues of the heart; between the meaning of transience, sporadic despondency, and the search for inspiration.