I met an amazing girl at Berkeley today.

I met an amazing girl at Berkeley today. (Part 1)

I met an amazing girl at Berkeley today.

It was Cal Day today. I'd been staying at the Stanford Admit Weekend, a three-night overnight program for prospective freshmen admits (ProFros) - I was planning to take a day off and go to UC Berkeley's Cal Day for prospective freshmen. On a dare and a whim I decided to ask this girl.

At the time, I really wasn't sure about anything. Maybe she seemed a little interested in me, and after a week of subtle suggestion and attraction - her pretty smile and whitty conversation and bright demeanor ("pleasure and disquietude") - I decided that I wanted a chance to know more, to know her more. So on a late night Thursday conversation, I decided to ask. Why not? Well 'why not'? would be my explanation for my rationale at the time... but it's taken me a few days, a quantum leap, and her casual mention of a distinct movie memory for me to fully realize what I had really wanted.

Excerpt from Wednesday, June 22, 2005

"A point that some movie also discussed a long time ago.. Maybe that is why we (or some of us) are so desperate to find a relationship with someone. Without social contacts, what are we? We can accomplish the greatest things in the world, build empires and create masterpieces of work... but what are they without someone to witness them? A simple footnote in history. So... Picasso painted Guernica. Famous painting. We know about the work, yes... it is simply something that exists. But what of the man himself? Who was there through all the effort and toil as he painted it? Who was there, at the moment he completed it, was there to revel in the glory of its creator's accomplishment? What if there wasn't? Then it's simply another thing that happened, another thing that exists. Outside of his own mind, the experience of its creation, its completion, is something that never exists.

Nathan Yan's life:

Stuff that happened
Stuff that happened
Stuff that happened
Stuff that happened
Stuff that happened
Stuff that happened
Stuff that happened
Stuff that happened
Stuff that happened

Does that mean anything to you? No, it doesn't. It's a list of accomplishments and significant events in life. But... no one was there. No one witnessed it. So, sure, they exist, as a factual record of things that happened. But, as real experiences, as personal experiences, they don't exist. How sad a life is that, to rush through life to get to the end result, and not (or not being able to) revel in the experience of it. To put it in a less abstract sense, it's like simming through a baseball season, just so you can look at the final stats. Maybe, that's the part most interesting, or at least, the part most interesting to everyone else. But you're completely missing the individual games, the individual events in between. When we published the paper... that was a notable event that happened. All the people who participated it in got excited for the period, putting together the papers, shipping them over to Mr. Speranza's class. But the next day... heck, the next period, people had already moved on to other things. They read their own articles, and then looked over the layouts, skimmed some of the articles. Took a glance at the CPU article, and said "Hell, I'm not going to sit through this." For me, sure the paper was a lot of things, a representation of times and the experience of writing those articles, but for everyone else, even those that actually read it, it was a "great read" from teachers or, "long article" from students. Sadly, that's how life is. People don't appreciate, and can't appreciate, the things that you cherish in life - they weren't there to experience it with you. This, Nathan Yan's life:

Stuff that happened
Stuff that happened
Stuff that happened

is how history, how life will look at you, when there's no one else around to share your life with you. (Maybe that's what bites me the most about that day at Habitat for Humanity... even with someone else there, it didn't mean anything to that person.. Just another afterthought of a mundane day. And so the experience, that becomes simply another event in the life of. Despite my experience, it's meaningless to anyone else.) Everyone has had experiences like that... something that you've done or accomplished on your own that you're just absolutely proud of... but it doesn't mean anything to me. Nor does it mean anything to anyone else, because no one else was there to witness you work on it, to witness you accomplish it. How many times I was up at night, working on the paper and articles, and reveling in myself how kick-ass the layout or the writing were. And how I wish, that there was someone there, right alongside me, working on the paper too - not to get the work done quicker or more efficiently, but just to have that same experience with.

So go for it. If nothing else matters in life, that does."

The movie here was Shall We Dance - a monologue of sorts by Susan Sarandon, I think. I love it when I read over material and find content so relevant to life today. Makes me feel a bit proud that I had all of this figured out when I was at an age much younger and inexperienced than I am now.

So I've struggled with the "what I want" question for years. Of course everyone wants consummate - to have that passion, that emotional intimacy, that committed dedication. Earlier in my years I wanted all that and love at first sight, too. And I got that - at least the love at first sight part. But it wasn't the love I wanted, not really even 'love' in the sense I define it today. It was the physical kind of attraction and relationship, with the wrong kind of person - the wrong kind for me - and it was messed up in every way that fear, lust, oblivity and deception can twist a relationship into a series of physical events and selfish desires.

Emotionally I think it scarred me for a long time. The biggest was the trust issue, something which expanded into nearly every other facet of any romantic relationship I've ever had. I think it's why I've held back and found problems with everything... The first time things ended horribly, and it didn't have to happen if I had simply noticed the glaring issues and imperfections that were there to begin with. And I think that's been the catalyst for my problem-seeking mentality since then. It seems all physical - how will it last without an intimate emotional attachment? There's a great emotional connection - but what about the passion and excitement that makes it something more? I can't believe how much this feels like... like. But what about commitment - how will I know she'll stay when we're not in so good of the times anymore? I think going into every potential attraction I've ever had, I've carried along all of those same anxieties because... well - what I tell myself is that I want to make sure the second person is going to be... the one. That I want to make sure if I ever go into a relationship again, it would work, and it would last. I think the deeper and baser reason, though, is that I'm in utter fear of another crash-and-burn relationship, the same kind that ripped out my heart and all my ideals and hopes freshman year. And so, oddly enough, I'm the one with commitment issues, by virtue of having the highest standards for commitment, I need the assurance of real potential, a real chance for love and for things to last forever. Well, maybe not the assurance... but I need the ability to convince myself of those things.

So for a time, at least, I had given up on love... and shortly after that I decided that I didn't really need all of the love. I didn't need it to be all consummate, although that would of course be nice. But it would be unrealistic, and I think I'd kill myself more, get trashed around a lot more, hoping and dreaming for that. I decided that what I really wanted was to just have someone there. Before I think that it was always a sense of absence... a lot of physical absence, despite all of its physical basis, but more importantly a complete absence of intimacy on the emotional level. What I wanted was simply presence, and on the triangular theory I suppose that would be commitment - simply to have someone there, someone who was attracted on whatever basis, and wanted to be attracted forever. I think I hoped that... as long as commitment was present, the rest of passion and intimacy would fall into place, in time. I don't think I really knew why at that point. Just that I knew it was what I wanted. To have someone be there, and to be there with that person.

I think sometime last year I started figuring it all out. It was that single scene, that single speech that pieced it all together for me. What I was always missing, and what I always wanted was the passive love. Everyone does active love - going out on dates, holding hands and making out in hallways and elevators. Active love creates the moment, defines the moment by romantic actions. But love can't be active all the time, not in the long term at least. And that's what killed me the first time around. As soon as that physical passion, that active love had evaporated, so had she. There was never a point when it was like spending every waking second of your life with that person. So I suppose that even in this I was still an idealist. I never wanted separate spheres of life - I could never have such a thing as "girlfriend time" and being done with that, move on to "other friends time" or "work time". Quite possibly, there could be a separate time for romance... but it would never be precluded from other friends or work. So that even if I was with my friends, the love of my life would be there too... and even if I had work, she would be there too. So that even when the active love stopped or took a break, as inevitable, the passive love would always be there, her presence always would remain whether I was with other friends, or working, or doing any activity. Active or passive, she, whoever she, would be integral to every facet of life.

There are lovers, the active. And what Susan Sarandon's character mentions is the passive. The "witness". I don't think I could top what I wrote a year ago, and definitely not the actual words from the movie. But it is, having someone there, not to make a moment as active love does, but as the very nature of passive love, to experience the moment, and to be a part of it. Life is filled with the experiences of the world. Take Italy this summer, for instance. It was an amazing time, one of the most fun experiences I've ever had, and 5 weeks in which I experienced the most growth in my life. I'll read back on my own private diary entries, look back at my own photographs, and each one carries with it such a story and such an experience. But all everyone else back here at home has are my own stories and accounts. Which gives a sense of the scene, as far as imagination will take them. But it's not sharing the moment with someone else, and no one will ever really know how it was like. Keeping it all within yourself, never without a genuine outlet, it's a life that seems empty. A life that doesn't seem fulfilled.

So I guess what I always wanted was a companion. A companion, one who satisfies all the requirements of active love, and at the same time a witness to all that you experience. The companion who lives your life alongside their own, and whose life you live alongside your own. The companion, passive, who's there to live and experience all of your life, and the companion, active, who is an actual, integral facet of your life, the companion who is your life experience.

So what I wanted was a companion. Oh, all of the anxieties and worries were still there. Figuring out what I really wanted didn't mean bringing that forthrightness into real world applications. But every great thing that ever happened to me for those 2 or 3 years was tinged with that hint of melancholy that it would be a memory exclusively of my own.

So on that Thursday night I decided I wanted things to be different. I decided that I wouldn't live another second of my life in solitude, if I could help it. On Thursday night I decided finally that I had been asking too many questions, that quite possibly, the perfect girl might just have been standing before me, with myself too absorbed in the nightmare of my relationship(s) past to notice the potential for real romance, real companionship, real love right before me. It was a Thursday night, and on a dare and a whim, I asked her. To come with me to Cal Day. She didn't know it, and I don't think I realized it until now. I asked her to Cal Day, and I checked my inhibition at the door, told myself that I wanted a new life, in fact the old life that once upon a day where eternal naïveté still graced the spotless mind, I dreamed about and wished for. Told myself exactly what I wanted. I wanted her, to be that active companion at Cal Day - a date of sorts, if you will. I wanted her, to be that passive companion, to be a part of my once-in-a-lifetime experience at Cal Day, once-in-a-lifetime experience making that college decision. I wanted her in every capacity possible, I wanted her integral to every part of my life. I wanted her. So Thursday on a dare and a whim I asked her to Cal Day.

And she said yes.

I met an amazing girl at Berkeley today. (Part 2)

She said yes.

Now what? To be honest, in all my terrible excitement and bewilderment and... anticipation... I had really no idea what was supposed to happen next. I know what I wanted... but was she the someone I wanted to be that what? I think I've always been a knowledge guy - I crave knowing. In class I want to know how it all works, how the largest and most complex of things still boil down and function at their basic elements. None of the 'memorize this mnemonic' rubbish. That's why I've always loved math, liked physics - and hated chemistry. That's the way I've always been in romance, too, I think. At any point, I've always known - or was convinced of my knowing - exactly what I wanted. But I've always been uncertain of the other side. What she thought, how she felt, what she wanted. And I don't think I could ever do anything until I absolutely knew for sure. What she thought, how she felt, what she wanted. Knew everything, and had my plan, before I could make any action, act on any impulse. Before I could tell her what I thought, how I felt, what I wanted.

And in one day along comes a girl with the allure to conquer it all.

Saturday morning, I find myself waking up early on the floor of a Stanford dorm room. It might've been 6:00. It's one of those bright, cold, and brisk sort of mornings. Chilly and refreshing, a slight breeze of cold air that wakes you up in the morning, and the sun shining all along. One of my two favorite kind of mornings, right up there with waking up to the heaviest downpours of morning rain.

She told me the night before that her street was fairly new, so it probably didn't show up on the online maps. It didn't, so she gave me the address of a nearby building instead. I follow the directions I looked up the night before, and as I drive up the road I got a familiar sense of deja vu. I've been here before. By the time we pull into the actual street, I knew where I was. She lives in the house I helped build. The Habitat for Humanity lot, that I had worked on in another life. Funny how the future always comes with strings to the past.

I met an amazing girl at Berkeley today. (Part 3)

She comes out dazzling and sophisticate. A stylish teal (sort of) kind of shirt, with a cute tie wrapped around her neck. All smiles.

We arrived at Berkeley about an hour later... Walked up the main driveway, just in time to cross paths with Josiah, who had been there since the day before. We chatted for a bit, and when we got to the beginning of the booths Josiah went to go check out his own events and information, and she and I were left in the midst of a bustling crowd of Berkeley admits.

I grabbed some information at the EECS booth, just a simple sheet summary of the events going on. Most all of it was centered around the two main EECS buildings, Cory and Soda Halls, so we headed over there. It was still mid-morning, so there was actually not much - mostly practical demonstrations, race cars with optical sensors and robotics made from a kit (MIT > Berkeley, yeah). The main events were two presentations going on later that afternoon, an information session presented by faculty about the program, and a Q&A with current EECS students. We explored a bit around one of the floors in the Cory Hall building, until we ran into one of the tours which was going around the EECS buildings. We decided to follow along and join them, and the tour guide took us on a tour through Cory Hall, mainly offering peaks into some of the rooms and talking about the program and the different courses. He then took us over to the Foothill "engineering" dormitories, so named for their proximity (two blocks) from the main engineering buildings.

And I think it may have been love at first sight. The La Loma complex was sort of built enclosing a nice tranquil naturey area, and if it ever snowed in Berkeley you'd absolutely believe you were standing in a Swiss chalet. It was nothing like a college dorm, and every bit like a... winter lodge? Woodsy utopian college living quarters? The first thing that popped into my mind was: ultimate study environment. The furthest thing removed from the always-active scene I had imagined of the units and typical college dorm houses, or even from the kind of environment I felt at Stanford the night before. My second thought was: how romantic it'd be to have a perfect night, and return home to a place like this. I looked to her on my right, and I think she might've loved the place too. And I could imagine the perfect day at classes, night out on the town, returning home to that enclosed courtyard. I'd hold her hand, and we'd gaze into each others eyes, and lean in for...

A sudden sense of movement as the tour guide and the rest of the group trekked along. She was still at my side, gazing around; I hope she hadn't seen me off and daydreaming. We walked along for a bit, through the rest of the Foothill dormitories, all of which admittedly paled in comparison to La Loma. We returned back to Cory Hall, where the tour guide left us off, and from there we walked across the street to Soda Hall. By chance we walked in just as a computer animation presentation was starting, so we sat in. Or rather, there being no adjacent-seat vacancies left in the crowd, we stood in. It was then that I realized I still had on my maroon shirt - Stanford red from that morning and the evening before. So I changed into my blue dress shirt, which I had planned to do earlier but hadn't really found the opportunity to do. The presentation was positively fascinating - they ran through an entire process of modeling, texturing, and animating. It would have been all the more engrossing if only I had my glasses at the time, so I could actually see what was being done up in front. However, I had the distinct sense that she was bored out of her mind throughout the thing, so I asked her if she wanted to go, and we cut out of the presentation short.

I was done with all of my activities for the time, except until the two main EECS seminars later on that afternoon, so I left it up to her to decide what to do. There were musical and dance performances going on all day at Sproul Plaza, and being the theatre girl she is, she undoubtedly wanted to go, so I obliged. We arrived to find the Cal Band in full tandem, an exciting scene - big music and big crowds. Tina called around this time, and asked about our lunch arrangements - I had talked with Josiah about getting all of us Berkeley admits together and meeting for lunch somewhere. They were still in the process of getting organized, so after the band finished their performance we headed over and out into the city for a tour of the Unit dorms. Unit 3 was the closest, so by convenience we began our tour of the "party dorm" first. They took us down to the computer lab, where I was horribly disappointed to find out about a 5GB/week bandwidth limit. Oh, no chump change to be sure, and plenty of excess, but I wonder now whether or not I'll be able to run a suitable web server over such a limit. Before the party could continue, however, Josiah called - we were meeting for lunch.

I met an amazing girl at Berkeley today (Part 4)

We walked back towards Sproul Plaza, and the gate, where we met up with Josiah and all the rest for lunch. We trekked back out towards the units again, and found a decent courtyard kind of food plaza, with a variety of flavors and types. And yet somehow, despite the quick and easy, in-and-out food court stands, we all end up on a second floor Shanghainese restaurant, featuring the slowest service ever seen at a restaurant. Ever. We pass by an hour, and nearly two, talking over how everyone's day went so far... housing and tours and exhibits and plans. Before I know it, and before the food's even arrived, I realize it's nearly already time for the EECS presentations, way back at the Bechtel Engineering building on the far side of campus.

We end up staying another hour, and make our way through about half of the fairly large plates, before we've already had our fill, and decide to leave to get to the 2nd EECS program. I think the lesson we all learned that day was where not to eat at Berkeley.

So we make our way over to the Sibley Auditorium at Bechtel, where we get in and sit down just as they're getting underway. It's a Q&A session with current EECS students, and it's in fact very informative and very engaging, probably the most informative and clear perspective I'd gotten of Berkeley at any of the events during Cal Day, and it alleved a lot of the concerns and questions I had had before about the college.

And all the while she sat there beside me, listening as intent as I was, and interested in what the panel of students were talking about, interested in what I was going to decide. I realized then she would be that ultra-supportive, everything-girl. It's a hard thing to describe; I suppose the best example would be to say that she seemed to embody that ideal "Mayor's wife" – supportive, interested, and even wanting to be involved with what I was thinking, what I was planning, what I was deciding. More and more, she seemed to embody the ideal woman I had always dreamed of, the companionate love who would be there in everything, through everything, just like she sat there now, sitting in and listening to a discussion among a panel of Electrical Engineering/Computer Science double majors that should have in all right bored her out of her mind. I think that was the first time I thought of her as amazing - this amazing girl I was meeting at Berkeley today.

We stepped out of the Bechtel building, and it might have been around… 3pm? The crowds at Cal Day were beginning to thin out from their middle-of-HK density earlier in the day, although there were still tons of students abound everywhere. Myself, I think I was entranced already, within my own world where the only people who existed, the only two people still left at Berkeley who mattered, were her and me.

We set off to see the housing at the Units, our last (or my last) stop for the day, and on the way there we passed by the tower, which was supposed to have lifts running to the top through 4pm. The lady there said that they had actually just closed for the day, although it was barely past 3. I was disappointed, to say the least… although that's not to imply I had anything planned at all.

So we made our way back over to the Units, where we were touring before lunch. We walked over to Unit 1 this time, since I doubted that I would end up living in Unit 3 next year, if I decided on going to Berkeley. The Units looked nice, if a little cramped, especially the triples; after actually seeing the rooms I don't know how three of us could have fit in one of those. I absolutely fell in love with the wide-open windows. Maybe it was just the time of day, or the surprisingly nice weather we were having that day. But it was bright, and the rooms were all so… sunny and well-lit. I suppose that, more than anything, convinced me that the Units were livable after having seen the beautifully tranquil chalet that was La Loma at Foothills.

We toured through the rest of the facilities at Unit 1, and heard all about their counseling resources and their new all-organic dining hall. I think she let off a sigh that echoed my sentiments exactly when the tour guide mentioned that bit. We sat down briefly in this room for a short presentation by I think the academic resources director? Or some sort of counselor or person who directed this tutor program. It was all a blur at that point, and about the only thing I remember was that when we got up to continue the tour, I put my hands on hers, for just a split second. I'm not even sure if she noticed; I was too scared to even look at how she'd react. A half-second later we were on our way, and I took my hand away, simultaneously trepidating and breathless all at once.

We ended our tour of Unit 1, and headed out the exit. After a bit of walking, we found ourselves deep into the city of Berkeley, and nowhere near the university. It took a bit of map-reading and asking for directions to figure out that we had left Unit 1 through the wrong side, and so rather than walking toward the campus we were actually walking away from it.

So we headed back the right way, and when we finally reached the campus we found it… deserted. Well, not completely. But the student club and organization booths had all closed up shop, leaving a long row of tables and papers strewn about the main walkway running through the campus. There were still a few students, both Berkeley and ProFro, walking around, although it appeared as if most people were on their way out. It was around 4, but I didn't need to get back to Stanford for awhile, so we decided to stay and walk around a bit.

The day had been… adventurous, exciting, and… informative. I learned a lot about Berkeley, too. We talked, for the most part, and despite my initial fears of finding nothing in common that could sustain conversation beyond the 4- or 5-minute passing periods I was used to with most girls, I found that… conversation flowed easily, perhaps for the first time in a situation where I've found myself conversing with a girl I was attracted to. And it wasn't all of the usual and generic dialogue filler… the kind of "oh so how'd your… classes go?" and that such we use in stead of real topics of interest, not that, she being in another year entirely, I had the option of carrying on a conversation founded upon that anyhow. It was fun, and perhaps exhilarating, to explore her mind, and with every second more I spent with her, every bit more I learned about her, she was steadily revealing herself to quite possibly be the perfect girl, my ideal girl. Most exhilarating of all, was the long-lost feeling, that melancholy I denied for several months and thought myself rid of altogether – dare I say, I found myself to be attracted to a girl again.

Most everyone else had left; Josiah had called a few minutes before to tell me that he and Alvina were leaving on BART, leaving the two of us as the last ones there. My day wasn't over yet. Coming in I had nothing planned, but in spite of that I think I still harbored every wish and desire that she would turn out to be everything I hoped she'd be, that maybe somewhere along the way a spark would fly, and I'd find myself completely attracted to her and find that she, by some improbable cosmic alignment of the fates, was attracted to me too. And all through the day, I think I secretly wished for it, despite telling myself that she was a formerly acquaintanced recently friend… who had happened to ask me to prom, and that I in any case was completely and decisively over and done with girls.

So on the walk along the upslope, toward the general direction of the tower, I took her hand and held it in mine. And it was like the world stopped right there – where before we were carrying on a lively conversation, the scene was suddenly quiet, like time had stopped. Even the background sounds, people bustling about far off, seemed muted. But she didn't back off, not for a second. The moment my hand began to graze against her fingers I think she may have grabbed my hand as much as I took hers. We just kept on walking, and after a bit I think I said something, and in an instant we were right back to where we were, and nothing had changed at all. Except that she still held her hand onto mine, and except that I knew then this amazing girl I was meeting at Berkeley somehow managed to find a way through to my heart, and that somehow she had found a way to fall for me, too.

We walked around for a bit, exploring the back parts of Berkeley, walking around the outside of the Greek Theatre or the stadium. We finally made our way down, on this foresty path alongside a creek, and reached the end of the campus, and made our way to the BART station. The 5:30 train back to San Francisco.

There wasn't much on the train, not any two adjacent seats, anyhow, so she sat and I stood, or kneeled, next to her. Some time after the Bay Bridge the seat vacated and I sat down next to her, and we sat and held hands and talked.

My ride back to Stanford was waiting at Balboa Park. The line ended at Daly City, and her stop was another one down, a transfer to another train for Colma. The train stopped at Balboa, and with the 6:00 from Berkeley the last train down to San Franscisco for Saturday service, and us having taken the 5:30, I wasn't sure if there would be a train back up to Balboa if I went on to Daly City. So when the train stopped at Balboa, I got ready to leave, looked into her eyes and told her goodbye, and… realized I wasn't quite ready to go, not just yet. And despite the day turning out more amazing than I could have possibly imagined when I woke up that morning, it wasn't perfect, just yet. Had I left right then, and went on my way back to Stanford, I would have been in ecstasy for a week, just from the day I had thus far. And although I knew she had enjoyed spending the day with me, I thought that, perhaps, her day wouldn't be complete either. After all, the stories that transpire on silver screens never ends without a…

So I stay on the train, and I thought I may have caught a smile of surprise and elation when the doors closed and the train started moving and I was still there. We made our way to the end of the line, and got off at Daly City.

The platform there was split in two: her southbound, down to Colma, on the left; my northbound, back to Balboa Park, on the right. So we stood between the escalators on opposite sides of the building, two directions and two sides of the city. I took her hands in mine, and gazed into her eyes for a long while. I leaned in and closed my eyes, and all the while the single thought running through my mind was, "Oh my gosh, I'm going to kiss Wh…"

Kiss.

It was soft and short and sweet… and sublime. The most perfect first kiss I'd ever experience, I ever could imagine. It was the best kiss I've had, ever. And I don't think any of the sensual details I might write would either be appropriate or truly descriptive of how that moment felt.

I gazed into her eyes again, and said goodbye. We parted, going opposite ways, feeling happier and more… complete than I've ever felt in my life. I boarded the escalator up to the platform level, and as I emerged at the top I found myself on one side of a platform separated in the middle by the train tracks. I looked over to the opposite side and saw her, and it was her, coming off the escalator on the other side… for the second time in a minute, taking my breath away.

We both smiled and laughed, glancing across the tracks at each other standing on the other side. Wishing we could be on the other side, waiting for our trains together. My train came within a few minutes, racing past and braking into the platform, her image on the other side erased by the train's speeding blur. I stepped in, and took a window across from her, still smiling and giggling in uncontainable delight. Then she calls me, and from opposite sides of the platform we talk; I can see her mouth speaking the words before they actually get to me. Then comes an announcement that the train will be stalled at the platform for another 12 minutes. And I run off the train, down the escalator, over across the station and up to her side of the platform to see her again. I wrap my arms around her from behind, and I hold her as we stand there on the platform. Me, imagining the luck of the world that I have, for such an amazing day, meeting perhaps, finally, my ideal companionate, my dream girl. As the minutes ticked down I wish we could have simply stood there forever. I parted this time more reluctant than even before, and as I got back onto my train on the other side, hers arrived. She took a seat next to mine, and we gazed at each other through the windows of trains bound for opposite destinations. Her train pulled away first, and the last image I had was her flying by, a last fleeting, dazzling smile to remember her by until the next time we'd see each other again. A few seconds later my own train pulled on, and I think I might've simply melted and died in my seat right then, only to come back to my senses as the train pulled into the Balboa Park Station.

After three years of sullen resignation, dashed hope and for a time, exasperated frustration and recovery from this at-times-dreaded-and-at-times-not affliction of attraction, I thought once again that perhaps I might have my fairytale romance and find the love of my life after all. The ideal girl, the perfect girlfriend, had simply fallen into my life; no endless pursuit, no agonizing wait and brood and worry and wonder, just. Knock knock. At my doorstep.