New York City
It was March 2022, over two years ago and I still can't get you out of my head. We were seated next to one another at a Microphones concert at St. Ann and Holy Trinity Church in Brooklyn, it was a beautiful church. I was wearing a flannel and black jeans. I think I had a long beard and hair at the time as well. You were very tall, with straight hair, and were very beautiful. You were reading a book by Pema Chodron. After the opener there was an intermission for people to buy merch and I you commented to me on how you had never been to show where there was an intermission after the opener. We then started talking and I remarked on how I like Pema Chodron as well as how funny it was to me that you brought a book to a concert. You said that you had never heard of her before but you were enjoying it. We then just started talking in general. You said that this had originally been you sister's ticket but she wasn't able to make it so she gave it to you. But that you were happy to get out because you had just had a baby, whom your mother was watching, and that you obviously hadn't been out in a while. You also talked about how you were getting your masters in midwifery from NYU and I commented that In my ignorance I didn't even know that was a thing you could get an MA in. I remember getting really interested in hearing you talk about why you wanted to be a midwife and how impressed I was that you could have a baby and be getting your masters. I talked about how I was a philosophy phd student. I don't remember a lot of the details of what else we talked about, but I remember feeling very comfortable with you. Before the show started you shared a pot brownie with me that I believe your mother had made and I remember thinking that you probably had a very cool mom. The show was amazing and afterwards as the lights came on you asked me with eyes that looked like they were just waking up if I was heading to the R train. I told you the truth and said that I wasn't, but I wish I had lied. I wish I had decided to take the R train with you even though it wouldn't take me home. Especially when I heard what I imagined to be the disappointment in your voice at my response I knew I had made a mistake. You said that I was really nice meeting you with a beautiful smile and I said so as well. After saying our goodbyes I left but then quickly changed my mind and headed back through the crowd to where we were sitting, but you were gone. I scouered the crowd to no avail. I pushed my way outside, and looked all over for you. I ran up and down the streets peering down the road to see if I could see you walking off. I thought you were going to be easy to spot because you were so tall, but obviously you weren't, you had disappeared. There was something about you that was so incredibly special and I felt such a strong connection to you that I cannot pinpoint to something particular, I just felt it. Even after these two years I still think about you and maybe I've completely imagined that we had some kind of connection that we really didn't, but I truly felt as though we did and I hope you felt the same as well. I wish I had taken the train with you or at the very least gotten your number. It felt like such a special moment of time that we got to spend together-- a chance encounter between strangers who would never have met otherwise. It seems unlikely to me that after the years you would remember this or that you thought about me much at all afterwards. I didn't write this with the intention of finding you, (I'm fairly confident that's not going to happen) I wrote it for myself; I needed to write it out not just in order to relive it, but in order to certify the truth of this feeling I've been carrying for some lovely stranger whose name I didn't even get--or If I did I sadly don't remember it. You were clearly a very special person and I truly hope that you're doing well. I hope that school is going well, If you haven't graduated already, I hope your child is happy and healthy, and I hope you're fulfilled. The City has its special ways of creating magical encounters, so maybe we'll meet again someday, perhaps on the R train.
Posted: Thursday. April 04, 2024.
start a private conversation.