the coldest drink

is always in the back of the fridge.

I met your hand before I met your face. We both signed up for a ring making workshop. You were crouched next to the fridge looking for your drink of choice before class began. I wanted a mango seltzer. There were three left in the fridge and you were the only person in front of me. I knew I’d be able to get my first drink of choice.

You grabbed a mango seltzer (great choice) from the front row. You held the drink and paused. You put your drink back down and dug to the back of the fridge (great choice) to pick the same exact flavor. I chuckled to myself and smiled. The drinks placed in the back of a fridge are objectively better. I knew I wanted my drink crisp and real cold. Maybe you did, too.

I spoke to your hand and said “Ha, I would’ve done the same thing, picking the mango seltzer in the front then deciding the one in the back is probably better.”

I felt your silence. The silence of recognition. You stood up and our eyes met. I realized I was standing next to a face I couldn’t forget.

You were a digital thought in my analog brain. A thought I didn’t watch, but meandered past in random moments. I look up and see a face I haven’t had the honor of experiencing in person. And, what an honor.

I remember the first time I saw you on my phone. We matched on a dating app five-ish years prior. You were simply radiant. Your skin was glowing. You had a beautiful smile and soft, tender lips. We matched and had a brief but fleeting conversation. We never met. I wasn’t sad; I didn’t know you. But I knew I couldn’t forget your face. That was a face worth memorizing.

I continued about my life for a few years. Fell in love. Fell out of love. Exploded my life. Fell in love again. Fell out of love again. Exploded my life once more. While I treasure lasting love, I also enjoy the art of reinvention that quickly follows falling out of love.

After the second life explosion, I began living a life I only fantasized of. I felt free and feelings forward. I centered creativity, community, and eroticism in my life. I met other people building cool shit. One of those people, Paola, asked me to meet.

Paola and I clicked immediately. We talked about our shared drive in building something bigger than ourselves for our communities. She started to share more about what she was building and began showing me videos. In one of those videos, I saw a face worth memorizing.

I already had. I got nervous. Why did your face stick with me? It felt wrong that years later, the sight of your beautiful nose, risen cheekbones, intoxicating eyes, and radiant smile made me equally as nervous. Wait…why the fuck am I nervous? Ugh, shit.

I realized our worlds were closer together than anticipated. You were once merely a fantasy. A face I couldn’t forget so I decided to remember. I hoped we wouldn’t cross paths - I told myself I couldn’t keep up with you. You had bold looks, strength in your voice, and radiated with joy. I was on my way, but I wasn’t there yet.

We didn’t cross paths, though the opportunities were there. A shared friend’s birthday party that I attended and you couldn’t. Another shared friend’s park hang that you attended and I couldn’t. I continued on.

Some months later, I started posting videos of myself online. Sharing random reflections and general silly thoughts. An algorithm presented you on my page, doing the same. Putting yourself out there, investing in your local community, centering joy in your life, and on a similar journey. I didn’t reach out. I simply enjoyed appreciating your face from afar. For me, that was enough.

More months later, I began growing a following. I continued being my silly and authentic self. People seemed to like it. I kept going about my life.

One day, you commented. Shared how you had the same perspective. That you thought I was beautiful. That I made you laugh. I responded. I didn’t match your energy and I didn’t escalate. I was simply happy to be a side character in your life while remaining the main character in my own.

Shortly after, you messaged me asking to hang out. I, of course, obliged. We briefly exchanged messages and forgot about it all before it even began.

We never got the chance to meet up and we were back to being internet buddies. We would comment on each other’s posts. You began flirting, I think. Because I wasn’t so sure, I kept moving. I was simply happy to experience the briefest moments of you.

More months later (lord), we’d finally meet. I signed up for a ring-making workshop on a whim since I love learning random skills. Turns out, so do you.

Suddenly, a face I stored in my memory years ago was in front of me. Once our faces met, we embraced. Joy erupted out of our pores. We both had the type of smile that hurts so good. We knew it was only a matter of time before we met.

We just didn’t know that time was now.

We endlessly chatted, in the form of one long run-on sentence, until we began our own craft. We were both diligent and focused while crafting our rings. The initial excitement we had was compartmentalized as all of our focus was given towards our new craft.

I loved feeling your focus. You cared about putting effort into a new skill, even if it was a skill you’d soon learn you didn’t want to sharpen. I, too, am familiar with being consumed by curiosity and craftsmanship. Sometimes, at the expense of other things.

We briefly shared our work, comparing our different designs and celebrating each other’s process. Rarely do I meet a human who celebrates their peers as loudly as I do. I loved your loudness.

We both exchanged a few comments of surprise that we finally met. I was happy we were practicing a skill that required so much attention to detail so I could be briefly distracted by the undivided attention I wanted to dedicate to your details.

The time I would have spent studying your face went directly towards feeling your presence. Warm. Bold. Energetic. Thoughtful. Sweet. Curious. Adventurous. Authentic. Silly. Playful. Honest. Humble. Perhaps too humble because, girl, you really got it like that. I hope you know that.

We parted ways by the end of the workshop saying we should hang out sometime. We already had each other’s contact info. I knew it would be a few more months until we met again.

Until then, I’d indulge on the remnants of your energy as creative fuel before our next encounter. I’d let the thought of you linger on the roof of my mouth. You have the sweetest aftertaste.

We’d meet again and we wouldn’t force it.

Why would we be in a rush to experience destiny?