You entered with your friend carrying a bag from the Met at 86th to a crowded 6 train, remarking about how you forgot how far up you were. You were dressed in a white tank and a denim skirt. Dark hair, beautiful eyes. I was in a paint splattered button up shirt, oversized black trousers and black loafers. You sat while your friend stood and we make eyes for the first time. Sorry if it was for a tad too long; I couldn’t look away. Eventually both you and your friend sat down and I sat across from you. We make eyes again and I tell myself I’m going to muster the courage to chat, but I never did. We both got off a Union Square and get loss in the crowd. I experience instant regret. Here’s to hoping fate drives us back together…