To the girl sitting across from me.

From what I can tell you and I were made to be together. I base this conclusion predominantly on instinct. I make a sly attempt at eye contact with you, and chicken out when you look back by pretending to focus deeply on the wall behind you. I see your blurred face smile as your eyes take you back down to your book. The waiter brings you a tea, and I continue to pretend being absorbed by my work.

In a moment’s time, I will get up and walk over to you. I will smile and tell you what I’ve been thinking all along. You’ll smile and maybe try to brush me off as a crazy. I’ll make you laugh with an unexpectedly witty comment about a character in the book you’re reading, because clearly I’ve read it before and it’s awesome. You ask me to join you, and I happily oblige.

We leave together an stroll around the crowded market nearby, sharing stories together and laughing wildly. As we laugh we are both sort of taken aback, meeting new people shouldn’t be so easy. You tell me about how you gave up your parent’s dream of pursuing a career in academics for your own love: music. I’m impressed by your commitment to the violin and piano, you shrug it off as no big deal. I tell you about my travels, adventures, and meaningless ventures and shenanigans, you actually listen to me and even ask sincere and meaningful questions. You don’t seem to care much that I’m broke and have no actual career prospects to speak of, you say that you kind of like the free-spirited attitude rather than the rigid career driven one. I blush.

Time passes unnoticeably as the afternoon gives into the night, and a short walk turns into a stroll under the stars. At one point while walking my hand sort of accidently grazes yours as I sidestep to avoid some belligerently racing child, and you grab it and don’t let go. Thanks kid.

I walk you to a cab, and you make me promise to call you. ‘None of this 3 day waiting bullshit, I actually want you to call’ you say, and your honesty is a welcomed change from the useless games other girls play. A real one, I think to myself as I kiss you on the cheek and stare deeply into your eyes. You look out the cab as it drives away and wave one final goodbye, then call out ‘Nick, Wake Up!’

The waiter brings you your bill and you thank him. You leave a 100 note and pack your book into your bag, stand up, and walk by me. You smile at me as you pass by towards the exit. From the large widow next to which I sit I watch you walk away. I don’t have your number, not even your name. All I have is a ‘what if’ and a ‘should have but didn’t’, and I content myself with those, for now. Maybe you will return, maybe not. Maybe another ‘you’ will show up in my life, as another person whom I can create my silly little fantasies over. Maybe not.  I curse myself quietly as I finish up this last sentence… another one lost to the realm of possibility.