The first time I saw her was in a psychology class I took in my first year at a four-year university. (I started as a junior because I’d gone to a community college prior to enrollment here.)
I remember thinking that she was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. Even now, four years later, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone that would make me reconsider that.
The first time we met, however, was a year after seeing her for the first time. She’d been in multiple of my classes, so I assumed we had the same major. I was trying very hard to focus on school because I felt I was so behind already, given my age, so for a long time, I didn’t even consider the prospect of dating. But here was this girl, sitting in front of me in a night class on the day of a test (after which we were allowed to go home), holding on to every bit of hope that I had that she was proof that I had a Person. You know, that dreaded, wistful, oversaturated word–a soulmate. So I finished my test quickly and early–school, for all the focus it took from me, was not very hard nor challenging–so that I could turn in my test close to when she would turn in hers. It’s called moves?? Look it up.
I found her walking to our school’s parking lot, so I walked up to her.
“Did you just come from [redacted’s] test?”
“Yeah, I did. Did you?”
“Yeah. How do you think you did?”
“I think pretty well. I studied a lot for it. I’m [redacted], by the way.”
“Oh oops, my bad. I’m Nico.”
“Nice to meet you. I feel like I’ve seen you around before.”
“Yeah, I think we have some of the same classes. What’s your major?”
“Psychology. What about you?”
Nothing substantial came of this. A couple months of flirting (I tried not to because based on her Instagram profile, she had a boyfriend. And if this was going to be something good, I’d rather it not start off with me as the homewrecker, which I concede is a subjective term.), a couple years of waiting (she’d moved to SoCal after graduation), and one almost-date.
That almost-date turned into a date, and I had a really nice time. And I thought this was going to finally be what I’ve been working toward for so long, and it was. But only momentarily.
I’m happy and sad that I pursued her. Happy because it was something (read: someone) I really wanted. Sad because it was the most work in a long while that I’d put in that ended in unhappiness. I like that it’s both, though. I feel happy to have wanted someone so badly because at some point I wasn’t sure it would happen again.