A Meeting

I ever dreamed of meeting with my love interest for the first time on a corner of nowhere; the dreamlike place like a lonely grassland under the starry night with his skin spilled beautifully by the moonlight droplets, or on the top of the hill with the reddish-yellowish twilight witnessing us when our eyes first met the sight and saying hi.

Maybe I ever imagined of catching up with my love interest on a coffee shop (although it seems cliche, anyway) while we are waiting for our pals with an Espresso to go, or simply i just meet him on the college library when we are in the same shelves, looking for the similar wanted books. Or maybe, in a simpler way, the universe may just set him in a front of me while we are in a same train, with him wearing a shirt that fits his body gracefully, coming home from  a shitload of works or a busy college stuff.

“Well, I met someone I love on a bus stop. The wind blew his curly hair. He was stunning with that heavy-framed eyeglasses, and that unforgettable grin with a teeth braces on. It was a magical morning, and a more magical one I’ve ever had when I found out that we’re in the same college!” My friend told us how she met her desirable guy.

“How about you?” She asked my other mate.

“Well, it was an easy one to meet him. We were in a same class back then, and one day we had this class project and we did it altogether as a team. It was blast, you know... We spent many times together. I never forget how he smells.. How he called my name for the first time. Oh, too bad, he never knew how it felt like.”

“Mine was fortunately splendid, too. We met on the gigs of our favorite indie band. He was a hardcore hipster with parka and bucket hat. His appearance was way too angelic with his kinda taste of music. Then, we danced to the music till overnight...”

“Now, how about you?”

“Ah, me?” I paused at once.

“How did you meet someone you like? Your love interest?” My friends restating the question.

It left me speechless, while suddenly, I can draw his face in mind: he was the man of my dream, the man of my current future fantasy. I can feel anything. I can easily hear his voice inside my head calling my name whenever I want to. I can easily remember how he entertains me with his freaking random jokes.  I can easily draw how he sounds, how he smiles, how he touches my hair softly with his fingers, how he put his arms around my waist.

Should I tell them how I met my love interest? Should I tell them how I met the man of my dream and how beautiful he was? But it’s not like what I ever imagined: we met on a corner of nowhere; the dreamlike place like a lonely grassland under the starry night with his skin spilled beautifully by the moonlight droplets, or on the top of the hill with the reddish-yellowish twilight witnessing us when our eyes first met the sight and saying hi.

No, it ain’t happening that way. It happened in the wildest way of my life this far; the unpredictable time and space, or we could just say that,

"I found him via Tinder."