A Day Where Centuries Happened
Written on April 1, 2024 about the events of Sunday, September 11, 2022.
In the first half of 2022, I started to rebuild my social life from its complete destruction during the pandemic. I had made a few real friends, including Nour, a coworker, who quickly became the closest friend I’d had in years. I went on sporadic dates but nothing lasted very long.
Across August and early September, I pursued a romantic interest that I’d known for awhile. Ultimately we ended up on a hike together on the morning of September 11th. It went extremely poorly. We’d both had little sleep; the weather was cold; neither of really wanted to be there; and by the end of the hike we were sure that we had no future. So that romantic adventure, which had occupied so much of my thoughts for over a month, had ended.
After the hike I went home and thought about it for a long time. I probably called my sister, who serves as my romantic spirit guide. Eventually I had to pack up to go to a soccer game; at this time I was playing in a casual soccer league. Nour picked me up and we went over together; he helped me talk through my morning’s adventure. On several occasions during the game I stopped moving entirely, lost in thoughts, because I was still trying to process the events of the morning. Despite this I played relatively well, and felt better after thanks to the exercise.
On the way home, Nour shared some news with me from his personal life; it had been a big weekend for him too. We reflected on the idea that there are centuries where nothing happens, and there are days where centuries happen. For both of us, for different reasons, that day felt like a day where a whole century had happened. Nour then invited me to join him and a group of friends that I had never met for karaoke that night. I had never done karaoke before and I was generally pretty shy at this time in my life; karaoke was an unlikely proposition for me on a good day. I was, obviously, exhausted. Nour kindly encouraged me to come; I think I said I’d think about it. We discussed the idea that, on the kind of day where centuries happen, the right thing to do is follow the day wherever it takes you. It’s foolish to get off the ride too early. So I was convinced to go.
I made it to the karaoke bar early, and the rest of the group came over together from Nour’s house. I waited outside, leaning on a fence, for them to show up. So it was on the sidewalk, outside of Orleans in Davis Square, where I first met Holly. She was tall, slender, and had thick black hair. She was wearing all black - a leather jacket, and big black boots. We quickly learned that Orleans karaoke was actually on Saturday, not Sunday, so the group pivoted to having dinner together; we began to wander the square in search of a restaurant. As we searched, I got to have my first brief conversation with Holly, which was somehow about Minecraft (her and another member of the party somehow got onto the subject, and I joined in). I got to very briefly mention that I’d written Minecraft mods, which she understood and thought was cool. Basically nobody I’d ever been interested in had been able to relate to anything like that.
We settled on a restaurant (Foundry) and had a truly lovely dinner. The conversation between the group was a “popcorn” style of rapid-fire humor that I hadn’t seen before, and I loved it; the group seemed to have excellent chemistry. Sadly for me and my newly-piqued interest, Holly ended up seated at the far end of the table. But the dinner was great fun.
After dinner, we all went back to Nour’s apartment to chill for awhile. We all took off our shoes by the door, and Holly sat down to take off her boots. This was the moment where I really fell for her. She took off the boots and beneath them were soft pink socks with little hearts on them. This was some contrast to the rest of her outfit, but I don’t think any of us would’ve thought much about it, except that Holly herself was shattered about it. Her carefully crafted tough-girl persona was broken! She hadn’t thought she would need to take off her shoes! This was terrible! She was laughing as she emoted her distress. The display was simultaneously carefree, joyful, and fragile. Her personality took on real depth, then, and I loved it.
I went home thinking that I’d found at least a great new group of friends, and maybe a great romantic prospect as well. The gang made vague plans to meet up for karaoke again (on the right day this time). By this point I was sure that I loved karaoke, because Holly loved karaoke. So I signed up.