OctoberSam from my Calculus class asked me to a movie.
Not a silent one, just a regular one, and it was strange holding someone else's hand that was not yours and smelling popcorn in a grimy lobby with no cinnamon sugar on it and giggling and holding buttery fingers on a seat with someone other than you.
We kissed during the movie, taking a cue from the beautiful actors on the screen. Their kiss was probably better than Sam's and mine, but Sam tasted like Sour Patch Kids and smelled like sandalwood, and the hair standing up on the back of my neck was nostalgic and strange, and I didn't think too hard about you until I stood on my doorstep and remembered that one night a long time ago you didn't want to go in because you were scared to meet my parents.
I was full of crap snacks from the movie theater but my mom was happy and restless that I seemed so happy on a date that she made me some soup and turned on the TV to some comedy show we never really watched.
"You didn't have to do this, Mom," I said, and her rosemary chicken noodle soup was light and warm.
"I wanted to." Mom ruffled my hair. "You're really different, honey. I have a good feeling about this Sam."
It was THEN that I felt a bit sad. I thought of my mom mouthing 'good one' when she had met you long ago. I hope you know that you are a good one, just not the right one, and that is a fact of most failed relationships.