If I could tell myself that it was impossible to meet you for the third time this summer, well, I wouldn’t.
Because we did. Third time’s the charm, I suppose.
You had invited me (along with two of our other friends) to an outdoor film screening in Los Angeles on Monday night. The drive for me would be a bit much, considering that I don’t live that close from where the event would be held, but I didn’t mind going, since I knew that you would be there.
In the days leading up to the event, I was getting nervous, because not only would I be seeing you, but also that it would probably be the last time to see you for a long while, considering that you would be leaving on vacation the following week, and that I would soon be leaving for my eight-month stint in France; there would be no way for us to meet up before then. So that night was the last time that I would see you (at least, until I returned).
When the day of the film screening came around, I got ready: packed my toiletries and other essential items (I was also planning to stay over at a friend’s house after the movie, since by then it would be too late for me to return home), donned something nicer (instead of my usual comfy, but not-so-attractive T-shirt and shorts attire), grabbed the car keys, and finally headed out. I left in the late afternoon, when traffic wasn’t entirely the best (after all, it is Los Angeles), but fortunately, I was going against traffic towards the city, instead of away from it, like most commuters.
In any case, I stopped by the nearby neighborhood for some dinner before I met up with you at around seven-thirty to head over to the film screening. Two of our friends ended up not being able to make it, and so I thought it would just be the two of us. But you invited your sisters (as well as a friend of yours) to hang out with us as well. Although I didn’t really know them well, I didn’t mind having extra company. And perhaps you wanted to, too.
The night was still quite warm when we arrived at the site. Dozens of people were already camped out on the asphalt ground, in front of a huge, inflated screen on which to display the movie. You were unusually quiet as we seated ourselves on the ground and waited for the film to start. We didn’t talk much, except sit side-by-side each other while the others in our group sat in front of us, chatting and playing games on their smartphones. Perhaps it was because you sat behind them, or maybe you were just super tired from work, but anyway, I found it slightly strange that you were so silent.
Film started around eight-thirty; by then, the night was dark. I could make out a few lone stars in the sky, since the bright city lights masked many of them. In any case, though, I found the whole experience lovely: sitting next to you, laughing out loud during certain scenes in the film (a comedy, no doubt), and just…well, being with you.
Even after knowing each other for two years now, there is so much that I still have yet to learn about you. You’ve always been an introvert, and I had always wanted to get to know more about you, but even my own introverted nature has been a problem to overcome. Put two introverts together and, well, it’s pretty much silent. Not that most of our interactions have been without conversation, but I would have to say that, compared between the two of us, I am the more talkative one- and that’s saying a lot about me.
The movie ended around ten o’ clock, and so we got up to leave. Walked back to the apartment area where you live; before parting ways, we hugged, said our goodbyes, and wished each other well on our travels in the near future. Totally platonic, and surprisingly, I was okay with that.
Although nothing ended up happening between us this summer, I was happy to see you again and again (and again). We’re friends, and I know that you don’t feel that way about me- and I am fine with that. Even though you’re quiet and brooding at times, you’re also polite and pleasant to talk to, which never made any conversation with you much of a problem.
Basically, all I want to say is that it has been a pleasure knowing you for all of these years, and whether we end up meeting again or not, I will still remember you. That summer night, under the stars.
— The Finicky Cynic
Check me out on Facebook! https://www.facebook.com/thefinickycynic