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| The light of the city was shining up to us from below us. I was slightly fearful standing on the ledge, always afraid that I would fall. He pointed out the Bay Bridge to the left. How Market curved and sliced the city into neighborhoods. Soma, Castro...the Mission. He paused at the Mission--"that's home."
Then he stood up and gave me his jacket. "What am I doing..." he started. "--trying to pick up my neighbor from upstairs."
I laughed and smiled. "What are you doing?" I responded.
"Well how about this?" Then he leaned in. | | |
| I was looking through craigslist for a folding table when suddenly the doorbell rang. Without a doubt, I knew who it was. When I opened the door, he was there opening his door next to mine. "Hi," I said.
He apologized about running off this morning with just a simple greeting. I laughed and said that was expected. We made small talk about the upcoming party and the book I had lent him.
Then I paused, wondering if he had an intention today--whether it was just idle chit chat and just an apology for not saying much in the morning.
"Yeah, so I am supposed to go somewhere at 8. My friend is playing at this band. It's Mexican folk--" he paused looking at me. "Oh...you probably won't like it."
"It sounds interesting," I said, slowly nodding.
"Yeah...you are probably busy...anyway, I forgot what I was going to ask you..." he said. We exchanged goodbyes and went into our respective apartments. | | |
| After coming back from shopping, I saw a silver BMW parked outside my apartment. In the illegal red zone as if the driver was waiting for someone. I caught my breath. Was it him? Was he going to surprise me? Deep inside, most people don't ever have the drive to pleasantly surprise people. And I looked closer inside the car. It wasn't his. The car was devoid of the blue and gold pillows he put in the backseat to reflect his college pride. Despite it all, I felt slightly disappointed.
Then after work today, I saw a silver BMW again outside my building. It was parked awkwardly in front of a driveway. I looked around the street and didn't see whose it could be. Again, it wasn't his. I swallowed my own disappointment.
But how is it that coincidential that I see a silver BMW seemingly waiting...for something to happen? | | |
| Today as I went with friends down the 101 to dinner, I was reminded of the past year passing the exits on the freeway I used to take. Hillsdale Blvd. 3rd Avenue. The 92.
Hindsight is often 20/20 and this was no different. Last year, I was enveloped in an aura of hopefulness and gullibility. A dream where I thought I was on top of the mountain but in reality I was trapped in a crater with those above jeering at me. Passing all the familiar places I used to go was a reminder of my naivete. I wish that was all it was.
Last Saturday, I saw them at the other side of the hall. I could have gone the other way. I could have not said anything. But in maturity, I went up to them and greeted them by name. And smile. And superficial shallow small talk of how are you and we should hang out. Afterwards, I shuffled outside with my friend and I stared out into the glistening city lights, trying to catch my breath and hide my distraught eyes. | | |
| We first met more than 4 years ago when I was only an intern and he was working at the same organization. During those 4 years, we run into each other on occasion through our mutual friends. But we never really connected and if anything, it was just small talk to pass the time until we could speak with our friends again.
When I graduated, I had a farewell party and invited everyone I worked with. And included their mutual friends even though I did not know them well (out of courtesy). He was one of the latter and I didn't expect him to show. But almost more than halfway through the party he showed up. He greeted me, congratulating me on my graduation and I thanked him for coming. I was in the middle of taking photos with friends and asked whether he would like to be in mine. And we posed and smiled for the camera. He brought his camera too...and we posed again. Then we went our separate ways.
Two years later last June, I saw him again at a mutual friend's event. For some reason or another, we started talking at dinner. And it was...oddly so familiar, like we really had known each other for awhile. I was coming off a heartbreak and had just recently moved back. But I thought little of it, just glad to have a great time with someone new.
And about a week later, he emailed me. A random comment that he saw something that reminded him of me and gave me his sn. It took almost 3 weeks until I imed him. At that point, I was homebound--with my broken right hand. It was great talking to him. But unlike my previous years where everything was intense, this was normal and at the right rate. As friends getting to know each other. He asked me to go with him to a football game and then later, a festival. At the festival, I had been feeling lost before he came, not exactly sure what I was supposed to be doing. But when he arrived, somehow the world disappeared and it was just the two of us. The ocean and us. I remember sitting at the rocks near the shore watching the boats pass us...the noise of the crowd faded and just the two of us looking out to the bay.
That's how it always has been. So what if I had talked to him 4 years ago? Would it be the same as it is now? Would we be different people? Did the times we ran into each other those years be something else? Would I be writing this entry in almost nostalgia? What if I had known him the same way 4 years ago when we were naive, inexperienced students? | | |
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