Let’s be real, being down bad for someone is both exhilarating and completely draining all at the same time. I’ve been constantly wondering, “Is this a waste of time? Will this even work out? How will I know if I don’t even try?” Well, in all honesty, none of us know unless we try.
On a recent field trip, I would not have imagined getting to know you. Previously, you were just someone in my class who crossed paths with me every Tuesday and Thursday. You seemed too cool for me, too confident in yourself (even though you say that you aren’t). Our day was spent with our class, yet it felt like it was just the two of us. Now that song with the lyrics, “It’s just the two of us/we can make it if we try/just the two of us,” is stuck in my head by Heshua. I digress.
We were surrounded by the city, by people we had common interests with, and by each other. It was at dinner when we all filed into the restaurant’s private room, where we sat next to each other. We were flipping through the menus being indecisive as h*ll, trying to figure out how to talk to each other. After a few minutes, I knew we were both introverted, but had common interests, because of the specificity of our class. After a few minutes, we had decided on what we wanted to order, and the dreaded small talk began. I remember asking something about dorms, which, in retrospect, was a really dumb choice. However, as we started talking, it didn’t feel like a burden. You made me feel comfortable despite being in a setting I’d often be uncomfortable in. The combination of loud noises, the multiplying conversations, and the ambient noise of dishes clattering was overstimulating, but you provided refuge. It sounds cliché, but it’s true. Those who know me know that I don’t mess around with ingenuine conversations. I don’t remember the specific conversation, but I knew I wanted to get to know you more.
Fast forward to a couple of days later, we met for lunch in the Caf. Again, we had subtle conversations, yet it felt flirty and exciting. I wonder if you could tell I was nervous, yet so thrilled to see you again. During that hour time flew by too quickly. I so desperately wanted to skip class, drop everything, and spend time with you, but we all know that it isn’t a good idea. As I needed to leave, you came with me and walked with me towards the library, where we had to diverge. Yet there is this pit in my stomach. You’re graduating soon, but I want to make this work, and I’m beginning to sense you may feel the same way. We were strangers, now intertwined in a dance, now having to diverge paths.