Meeting

She hides from me the way a tree hides in the forest. 

I know that she lives. If my ears could hear all the sounds in the world, I would be able to hear her steps.

If I shout it on a busy street, she will never hear it. If I whisper it in the privacy of my room, the words will echo in her head for years.

She accidentally graced the fingers of another shopper in a department store, who shook hands with an old friend, whose nephew once handled a bank note that is now in my wallet. So basically, we’ve held hands :) 

We passed each other on the same street in a foreign city, except our visits were exactly 300 days apart. 

If one looks deep enough into a person’s eyes, all that they have seen will be reflected for one’s sight. By recursion, I only need to stand with my face extremely close to a mirror and dive in to take a look at her.

Every single letter of her name is a better kept secret than the nuclear launch codes.

Finding an alien among 70 billion silent stars is easier than finding a woman among 7 billion bellowing humans. 

I have no use for a Search Engine here. I need to invent the world’s first Find Engine. 

She has cried out to me from a bus stop at 18:30 in January, but I had just left a minute earlier. 

She held a secret world championship and I was pronounced the winner. But the winner’s stand stood empty so they had to cut the ceremony short, and the deposit on the marching band was forfeited. 

Tomorrow at 9 o'clock she can go out in the street and stop the first passer-by. If my calculations are correct, there is a combination of words, sounds, and gestures that she can utter that will make the message reach me so that I can find her. The human heart has a secret system of emergency beacons for this purpose. 

She bears the mark, printed on the inside of her eyelids by invisible dice. 

If a single leaf had been misplaced on the third day of creation, our paths would have been bound never to cross.

But the leaf was not misplaced, and now we are hurling towards each other with the fateful certainty of a perfectly misaimed ball that is going to shatter a pane of glass.

Every day we are blindly walking one step closer to falling into each other’s arms, like the people who built the tunnel between England and France by drilling from both ends and met in the middle. 

We are both spies in the same service. The code words were agreed upon beforehand, but we forgot them. Neither of us will let the other make a single slip up. So we scatter our brains in silence. 

In principle it is simple: just take in all available information, remember it, and act in logical accordance with it. In practice, that principle is like panning for gold in a tsunami. 

I cannot withstand the rising wave. I need to go to school to learn how to build a ladder or one of those very tall chairs.