High 70s. Clear skies. Train's on time. Great day for walking.
Stepping out of the 116th Street station, I was a new kid in a big city, though I had practically lived here my whole life. It was a feeling of curiosity, of ambition, of blissful naiveté. As if I had never been to Manhattan, I traversed the streets and the campus, taking in all the sights, both new and old.
Considering Gary and I had arrived almost an hour and a half early to orientation, the morning was brief. Grabbed some coffee and breakfast, took a nap in the courtyard overhanging Amsterdam. It was hard to stay conscious during orientation, though I appreciated the depth of concern they had for harassment on campus. Love was the last thing I had in mind, as a previous attempt was fruitless, while I unconsciously vowed never to engage in a relationship during high school.
I was first to step foot into the lab, and to my embarrassment, I'm sure I made a pretty terrible first impression. I sat down on one of the lab stools, and upon being asked to introduce myself to the teachers, I responded with "WHAT?" in an unintended militant tone. Eventually I did introduce myself, but I don't think the TA's were particularly fond of me. Anyways, people began to file in, both individually, and in groups. I hopped on my phone, pretending to act preoccupied to mask my nonexistent motivation to socialize, but as each person filed in, I secretly scanned their expressions. Everyone seemed pretty normal: unbothered, well-composed, eager. Normally, I take interest in observing a person's body language, but to me, nobody truly stood out.
Not until she came in.
As if the room were trapped in a capsule of time, all sense of movement was immediately slowed. I remember having an unwavering focus, a deafness and blindness to everything else in the room. When she walked in, the only thing that existed in the material world was her. As if time had stopped its perpetual motion, five seconds had lasted an eternity.
Immediately I noticed her eyes. They were perfectly round, welcoming, full of ambition. She had a piercing gaze that captivated anyone with whom she made eye contact with, yet there was an element of innocence that mesmerized me. She had an adorable nose: small and cute like a bunny rabbit. There was a mole on her right cheek, and her complexion was flawless. Her lips were full, slightly parted, and unquestionably soft. Her smile was remarkably bright, as if the entire room was filled with its brightness and warmth. She had a sunshine smile. I simply could not look away.
Conflicted.
Pretty evidently, I was falling deep into the depths of love, and yet, it was as if I was attempting to rationalize denial, to rescue myself from the inevitable grasps of affection. My past experiences had hardened my heart; I taught myself never to indulge in love during high school. But it was as if she had opened my soul to something nostalgic, something lost from long ago. It was almost an infatuation, that same intensity of affection, yet it differed as I knew this feeling would be long-endured.
For the rest of that first day, I carried on with classes. I made new friends, talked with others, and met back up with Gary. I took the 1 Train down to 34th Street, Penn Station, and caught the earliest LIRR back home. All the while, she was constantly present in my mind. It was a fondness, a passion, a yearning, that I had not felt in a painfully long time.
I didn't even know her name.
