Everybody remembers the night. Everybody remembers what it was like to say “yes” to one more frenzied drink in the roaring crowd. To watch the steam shoot from the cannons, confetti raining down, to see the people surrounding the stage be so genuinely happy, if even for a moment. When life is a blissful blur. When high-rollers and GA are spiritual equals, and no magnum of the finest champagne could bring more enjoyment than the cheapest of drinks. To be with true friends. To laugh and to share stories, and to remember that though we are all a little older and more battered from the slings and arrows of life, that some things - the most important things - never change. But what about the morning? What about the dawn? When the party is over, the music is gone, and all that’s left is the sound of gentle waves splashing on the sand. Who’s still there? Only the real… Only the purest kind of love.