When I was high school I dated a girl...let’s call her V. V was the most stunningly beautiful girl I had ever seen...literally had one of those bad 90s teen movie tunnel vision moments when I first saw her. Think “She’s All That” but take away the horrible plot where Rachel Lee Cook (think that’s her name) was only perceived as beautiful when the popular kids removed her glasses to reveal a major BABE. Any way, to my dismay within the first 5 minutes of introducing myself V mentioned she had a boyfriend who was at another school. So, cool. I’ll go fuck myself, right? Wrong. V and I started hanging out as “friends” and we kinda fell in love. “But waiiit. Isn’t that cheating?” No. V broke up with her former dude and we started dating shortly after. Any way, the night she told me she ended things, we had met at the Angelica to see some horrid indie movie...I think I repressed the title it was so bad but after the movie she kissed me for the first time. I had one of those dancing in the streets to Hall and Oats moments. Think 500 Days of Summer. On the cab ride home I put this Jeff Buckley song on and felt a sense of meloncolia which was confusing because I had just felt so happy a few moments before. I pondered why I was feeling these mixed emotions and I realized I was terrible of it becoming a reality. That maybe it wouldn’t work. Maybe it would be a great build only to fizzle our a few weeks later. Either way, we dated for the better part of a year before breaking up my freshman year of college, but I’ll always have a soft spot for that song and that mixed emotional filled late night cab ride.