I am a young woman walking along on a sweltering hot desert day. Suddenly I hear a distant voice shouting from somewhere behind me, and turn to see a man up the street a few hundred yards away. I start to turn away when I distinctly hear him calling “Wait! Waaiiiit!!!” and see him waving his arms.

He is walking at a semi-brisk pace, but it still feels like forever for him to finally catch up to where I’ve been standing somewhat impatiently and uncomfortably with the sun beating on me.

Me: “What? Do you need something?”

“I just wanted to let you know…” He grins and pauses dramatically.

There is a long pause where I just stare at him. “Yeaaaah?

“You’re beautiful!” He declares, so obviously proud of himself.

I blink. “Is that it?”

His face twists into a scowl: “Yeah, geez. I just needed to let you know you’re beautiful!”

Me, rolling my eyes: “Kay, great. Bye.”

Him: “Well you could at least thank me!”

This remark makes me see red. “Thank you for f***ing WHAT?”

Him: “For the compliment?!”

Me: “Oh, you mean for holding me up in this heat waiting to see what the f*** your deal was, only to have it be for some meaningless, fake bullsh*t how I was sooooo beautiful when I was just a tiny speck in the distance? I thought you needed something, but apparently it was just attention. Wowee, this sure made my f***ing day! Time is money ***hole, I got places to be.”

I turn and stalk away, pissed.

Him: “B****!!!! It’s c**** like you that make me never want to go out of my way to be a nice guy again!”

Me, yelling back: “Good, we’d definitely be grateful then!”

I looked over my shoulder a few times as I walked away to make sure he wasn’t right behind me, but he was a really slow walker. Some people are just unbelievable!

This happens when my brother, Philip, is little.
Mom: Why do you have Dad’s screwdriver?
Brother: He said it was mine.
Mom: What?
Brother: He said it was Philip’s screwdriver.

(At this time, I’m a sophomore in high-school, 15 years old. I run a club at my school, and in order to text the other members important information or reminders when meetings are, I have everyone’s phone number. Considering we’re all friends, classmates, and have known each other for a long time, this is not an issue. One day, I receive a text from one of the boys in the club who I don’t know very well. He asks me a question, and from there we get to texting. School ends and it’s summer break, and he starts texting me single everyday. At this point, we’ve known each other in-person and on text for about three months. Being young, I don’t at first understand the implications behind his texts, until he comes out and says it.)

Him: So, what are you up to?
Me: Just hanging out, I guess. What about you?
Him: I think I’m going to take a walk later tonight, at midnight.
Me: That’s cool. Stay safe!
Him: Listen, so we’ve been texting for a while now. I’m just going to come out and say it.
Me: What’s up?
Him: I like you. I like…like you. I’ve liked you for a VERY long time. Every time I take a midnight walk, I think about you. I think you’re so great. Would you go out with me?

(This is FIRST time in my entire life I have ever been asked out by a boy. I’m utterly flabbergasted, and I say yes to a date almost immediately. The way it works in my school – I don’t know who started the tradition, but it’s been this way forever – is that on your first date with someone, you make it a “Group Date.” You bring your friends, the other person brings theirs, and the friends hang out while you’re on your date, but close enough to keep an eye on you in case of an emergency. I get my two friends, he gets one friend, and we decide to go to the movies.)

Me: *having reached the theater with my friends* Oh, they’re not here yet! Let me text him.
Him: We’re gonna be late. Would you be able to buy the tickets and popcorn?
Me: Sure! See you soon.
(They arrive, and we go right into the theater. I trail behind, holding the popcorn, and he walks ahead. I watch him go to sit next to his friend, who glares at him, and then he moves over to actually sit next to me. I chalk this up to nerves, and we watch the movie. Afterward:)
Him: *to my friends* So what did you think? Did you like it?
My Friends: Yeah, it was good. *They move away to give us some privacy.
Me: So…
Him: *Follows my friends to the other side of the movie theater, still talking to them. I am left alone*

(Later, we find out he and his friend don’t have a ride back home, so we offer to drop them off. In the car, he sits next to me…and then turns around and talks to my friends the entire time.)

Me: *Ten minutes after we reach home* I…did not like that.
(My phone text message alert goes off)
Him: That was the greatest date I’ve ever been on! I was wondering…would you be my girlfriend?
Me: Uhhhh…..

(Later on, I write out a heartfelt “break up” text, apologizing for having to text him since we were both too young to have cars and couldn’t meet up again, but explaining that while I liked and admired him, I just didn’t feel a spark and didn’t want to pursue a relationship. He at first accepts it, then at 2 am I receive a string of texts. Please keep in mind, we’re 15, and he’s known me for three months max.)

Him: Listen, I understand where you’re coming from, but I really think that you and I are meant to be. Maybe I watch too many movies, but from the moment I met you, I fell in love with you. I think you’re my soulmate, and I don’t want to let that go.

(The next day, I told many things, but the only thing that got him to let go and respect my wishes was that my parents wouldn’t let me date anyone until I moved out of their house, which wasn’t happening anytime soon (and also a lie). After that, he continued to text me, EVERY DAY, until I eventually told him I was indefinitely losing my phone because I was grounded (also a lie). It was a rough first-time, and it wasn’t even a real date. I’m a little nervous about what a real relationship will be like.)

(Our reception has three computers. Two facing a wall and one on the corner. The corner computer has a sign stating ‘Please queue along wall and wait to be called’. I’m free and look over to see no one queuing. I look over to the corner computer and see a couple standing in front of the sign, an older man reading it. I give him a moment. He finishes reading it and looks up… staying there. There is now a person behind them lining up.)

ME: “Hello! Come round!” I use my clear voice and wave.

(My coworker returns from her break as the couple starts moving.)

COWORKER: “Hello. How can I help?” She still has her things in her hands and they go to her.

(I’m left planning the signage for the hundredth time)

I just lost my grandmother this week. While she was 95 years old, she had been doing pretty well until a sudden illness. She has been one of the most important people in my life. She has been the purest source of unconditional love, and it is thanks to her total acceptance, support, and love of me that I made it through some of the most challenging times in my life. Needless to say, losing her has been very difficult. I cried plenty the day she died, but for the last several days, it has been difficult even to eat or sleep, much less cry. I’ve felt in sort of a numb haze.

Today, I took the subway home. I walked into the station just as my train was pulling away. Frustrated and cursing my timing, I started to head into the station to await the train when I heard a busker playing a beautiful classical piece on his violin. Realizing I had nothing better to do until the next train came, I stayed and listened. He played beautifully, giving each note soul. When he finished the piece, I applauded.

Him: Thank you! Not many people have the opportunity to stay and listen.

Me: Thank *you*. It’s been…a really difficult week. You made it better.

Him: Next week will be better than this one.

I dropped some bills in his violin case and headed for the train. When I got to the train, I was thinking about his music and how much Grandma would have loved it. She was the daughter of a classical composer, and she adored classical music. The music felt like it had been a warm hug from her. Something eased in me, and I was finally able to cry. My grief feels tinged with warmth and love now, rather than just totally overwhelming. Thank you, subway busker. Thank you, Grandma.