text: &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A Girl I Met Once “It’s like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert, but I’m holding you closer than most.” - Ron Pope, *Drop in the Ocean* &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;You waltzed right in, without knocking or announcing your entry, without waiting for permission, without a care at all. I was eating a quick dinner and had changed just before you arrived, just in case you ended up being someone I wanted to impress. I had heard so much about you that I was fairly confident we would hit it off, and even though I assumed you were straight, I wanted to be friends with you before I even met you. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Rewind. I had been working at Chili’s that night. Abby told me earlier that she’d finally convinced you to come down with her for the party, so I was looking forward to going and meeting you. When I got off work, I drove straight home, changed into a striped v-neck t-shirt that I bought a few weeks earlier in the little boys’ section at Marshall’s because I look good in it, and threw some breaded chicken into the microwave. I texted Abby to let her know she could come pick me up, since she’d offered and this way I could drink and wouldn’t have to worry about driving. I was a little bit nervous about this, because I knew about the crush Abby had on me and I didn’t want to lead her on - I wasn’t interested in the least - but I felt pretty sure that she knew where I stood. Turns out, I was wrong, but that’ll come into play later on. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;So, she arrives. She pulls into my driveway, gives a little knock at the door, and I let her in. She’s typical Abby - a little nervous, a little awkward, but nice and sweet and all the rest of those generic things that everyone says about everyone else. Anyway, as I was collecting my alcohol to bring to the party (green apple Smirnoff) and trying to devour my dinner, Abby let slip that you were waiting in the car. “Tell her to come in!” was obviously my reaction to that. So, she did. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And that’s where this story began. You danced in with your twinkling eyes, you’re indescribable smile, and the giggliest hello. I melted. Right there, that was when you had me. You just came right in, like you owned the place, like we had been friends so long we were practically family... And then we were introduced. Abby scolded you for just coming in without knocking or anything and I can’t remember if I said anything more than that it was totally okay, but I really liked that you did that. I liked the way you commanded the room. I liked how light your command was, too - how it felt more like a plea, or a wish from a fairy or a princess in one of those Disney movies we watched as kids - lovely and pure, as you are. And I especially like that you seemed so comfortable - it made me feel comfortable (which isn’t something I’m used to in the presence of such a pretty girl). &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Immediately I knew you were going to cause problems for me, because somehow you were already in my head. I literally took a second to say to myself (silently, of course), “she’s straight, she’s Abby’s cousin, she’s not interested - don’t even try.” “No, bad ~~dog~~ girl.” I was doing well, too! I even caught myself a couple of times and pulled back. I wanted to flirt so badly, but I kept it in. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Soon, I finished eating, grabbed my stuff, and we piled into Abby’s car to go back to her house where the party was already going on. We didn’t say a whole lot to each other in the car, but you were happy and smiley and so pretty and way too cool for me, so naturally I was totally captivated. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;When we arrived at the party, we went in and I was introduced to a few of Abby’s friends and some people who I guess were her roommates. One girl who became my beer pong partner (secretly, as we were setting up for pong, I was hoping you’d ask to play so I could ask you to be my partner) introduced herself to me as Diamond Princess. I started calling her DP for short and, as it turns out, those are her real actual initials. That’s not important to the story; I just thought it was funny. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Pong went on forever and we just wanted it to end, so the other team tricked DP into thinking we won just so we could stop playing. The whole time you were playing with the music and talking to Abby and, most importantly, dancing. When I watched you dance, the rest of the party was on pause. Everything stopped - it was just you and the music. You smiled and laughed and your eyes sparkled. Abby was right when she said you were more yourself that night than she’d seen in a long time. Obviously I couldn’t have known that then, because I had never met you before, and I probably can’t even know that now, because that’s the only night I met you, but I believe it because of how alive you seemed. More full of life than anyone else at the party. Hard to believe you tried to off yourself the very next day. Forget social work; you should pursue a career in acting. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;We finally finished pong and gave up the table for someone else to play, and I moved to stand closer to the stage so I could watch you dance more. Abby found her way over and joked with me about how, regardless of whether you’re singing the right words or not, you love to sing along to every song. I thought that was just the cutest thing. That song Some Nights by FUN came on the iPod while we were down there - you continued dancing and we all sang along (or, you know, tried to). I had forgotten about that until you brought it up via text a few days later, when you said “Every time Some Nights comes on I think about us hanging out in the basement.” Now it’s a memory I hold onto, and when I hear Some Nights on the radio or on someone’s iPod, it makes me think of you and I feel closer to you for just those four minutes and thirty-seven seconds even though we can’t talk anymore. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Anyway, after that song we kind of all made our way upstairs. I really only went up there because you did, and I wanted to be wherever you were. I hope I wasn’t too obvious. The next thing I remember is when a bunch of us decided to play cards. We didn’t know what to play, and we went back and forth for a while, but we ended up on Egyptian Rat Screw - you know, that game where you each put down a card on your turn and you slap the pile on doubles and sandwiches. I wanted you to play so badly. You were sitting on the couch not far from me, and I was sitting on the floor somewhat facing you, stealing glances as often as I could manage. I didn’t win the game, and I couldn’t convince you to play with us, but it was fun anyway. And I was content just knowing you were there. Until you weren’t. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;About halfway through the game, you got up and went outside. I wasn’t sure what you were doing, but Abby got all concerned when you were walking out. She was practically mothering you the whole night. I guess, considering the circumstances, it was totally understandable, but I remember thinking she should probably ease up on you a little bit. I doubt that it would have changed anything, though. Anyway, you said you were going outside to call your roommate. Well, you said “to make a phone call” and Abby had to drag out of you who you were calling. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;You didn’t tell me until a few days later, via text, that you were calling your roommate to convince you not to make moves with me, because both of you knew about the crush Abby had on me. After you were outside talking on the phone, you only came back in for about a minute before you went to bed. It was at that point that I was over the party and was ready to go home. If you weren’t there, I didn’t really care to hang out any longer. But I stuck it out for a few more minutes so it wouldn’t be too obvious, and because I didn’t want to hurt Abby’s feelings. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Side note: as I’m writing this outside the coffee shop Holy Grounds (Catholic University loves its bible puns) in the student center at school, I see your cousin walking in the doors. I immediately feel a rush of emotions: nervous, awkward, hesitant, and then also all of the things that you make me feel. What feelings do I have about you? Well, whatever they are, they’re strong. Stronger than they should be, I know. The mix of feelings that make me so drawn to you with the ones that make me so avoidant of Abby at the same time is confusing to say the least. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;So you go into Abby’s room to supposedly go to bed (whether or not that’s really what you did, I will never know) and I start thinking of an exit strategy. It wasn’t hard to think of one. “I think I’m about ready for bed, whenever you’re ready to get me out of here.” That’s not an exact quote, but probably extremely close to whatever it is I did say. Abby was ready then, and we got up and I said my goodbyes to everyone I met at the party, save you. I told myself I was going to go knock on the door and give you a hug and say it was nice to finally meet you and then leave. I was sure I was going to do it. As I stood up, I even got butterflies because going in to say bye to you made me so nervous. Actually, it was just interacting with you that made me nervous. As you already know, I didn’t do that. I didn’t work up the courage to go in and say goodnight to you. And I’ve been kicking myself for not going in there ever since. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It’s probably for the best that we weren’t alone together at the end of the night, though. Even for the 30 seconds it would have taken to say goodnight. We were both so attracted to each other and you were my entire focus - I wouldn’t have even thought about it before saying something that crossed a line or even kissing you in my drunken stupor if I started to get a vibe from you. But you were good; I didn’t get a vibe at all. I had no idea you were interested in the least. You hiding away probably had a lot to do with that. That was the only chance I’ve had so far, and probably the only chance I am going to get, to kiss you. Or hug you. Or see your smile one last time. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I would say that I strongly regret not going into that room to see you before I left that night, but honestly it’s a stupid thing to regret. As much as I would have, and I hope you would have, enjoyed it, Abby would’ve found out what happened and you would’ve felt guilty. You told me that if we had kissed then, you probably would’ve tried to kill yourself that night instead of the night after. I don’t think I could have handled that. So I’m glad it didn’t happen. I’m still upset I missed out on a chance to kiss you, though. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That was the last time I saw you. That was the only time I saw you.