Dating is hard. Dating in an area the size of an airport, even harder. Here is what happens when the last person on Earth you want to see crosses your path on a regular basis:
· Encounter One—a passing glance as you walk to class, a friend’s house, to get food, etc. After a slight increase in heart rate and temporary cessation of breath you realize “oh hey, that wasn’t so bad. I can totally do this.”
· Encounter Two—seeing each other at a mutual friend’s party. After praying to the gods that he would decide not to show up, there he is. “Oh cool, all my friends went over to say hello. It’s too soon to exchange pleasantries so I will, therefore, sit in this corner with my glass of wine and pretend not to exist. Can I get a refill?”
· Encounter Three—another party, but this time “Wait a minute, WHO IS SHE?!” Yes, she probably is his totally platonic friend from the res halls freshman year, but your recently broken up girl-brain isn’t about to register that. No, instead you’ll dance a little too hard, laugh a little too loud at some random guy’s joke and try to keep up the illusion of fun.
· Encounter Four— * eye roll *
· Encounter Five— “Why do bad things happen to good people?”
· Encounter Sixty-Five—Dear Universe,
I get it, he exists, so you can stop reminding me at your earliest convenience.
· Eventually—you will work your way up to being okay with it. Maybe you’ll be on good terms and maybe you won’t, but if Louis Zamperini can forgive the men who tortured him in a prisoner of war camp for years during WWII, then you can do the same.