Before the Moment’s Gone

Sep 1, 2015 by

“Come on, come on, come on, before the moment’s gone.”

No. 1 Party Anthem, Arctic Monkeys

 

          You know when you have potential with someone but you know it’s not going to happen right now? The chemistry is there, but your timelines don’t match up for whatever reason. The two of you are looking for different things or there are still residual effects from relationships past or one of you isn’t ready and the other isn’t sure. You know that high you get with somebody? You know that rush that’s subject to fade if not fueled? You know that lost potential? That lost potential drives me insane. It drives me insane even when it’s not mine, even when it belongs to two friends or two strangers or a personal trainer and her client at the gym (can those two hook up already?). Mutual sparks are rare, so when I feel or see them fizzle out because of timing, I swear I can hear Alex Turner singing in the background, “Come on, come on, come on, before the moment’s gone.”

          And then, there are the times that two people embrace their moment.

 

***

 

          “My boyfriend and I – ” a friend began a story on Friday night, before I interrupted.

          “Hold on, you have a boyfriend now?” I exclaimed.

          “I didn’t tell you?”

          “No!”

          “It’s such a cute story!” someone commented.

          “Okay, I need to hear this story first,” I said. “How did you meet him?”

          “It was in May. I was selling electronic cigarettes, hating my life,” she began, making me laugh. “He had been watching me in the distance the whole night. He said that to him I was just dancing lights. At the end of the night, his friend told him that he better say something, because he was never going to see me again. So he came up to me and I was like, fuck this, still hating my life. But then he helped me carry a box back to my car and asked for my number. The next day, we talked on the phone for three hours.”

          “You mean, like – ” I held an imaginary phone up to my ear in shock that people still call people.

          “Yeah, like – ” she fake dialed into her hand. “Real life.”

          “Wow.”

          “For our first date, we went for lunch. Like, so non-committal, because I was all #lovemysinglelife,” she mocked her three-month-ago self as she hashed two of her right fingers over two of her left. “Lunch turned into coffee. Coffee turned into a glass of wine. A glass of wine turned into a walk – in the rain! I love that part! Then I was like, ‘I got to go. I’ve got a life. I got to go walk my dog.’”

          I laughed, never understanding how dog owners manage to arrange their time around their dogs’ pee schedules.

          “Twenty minutes later, he called me and was like, ‘I’m about to get on the highway and I don’t know why. Can I come back to get you?’”

          “Eeeeeeeee!” I squealed.

          “So then I was like, ‘Come on, pee, pee, pee!’” she relayed, bending over in a squat as she told the story, like her dog was right there in front of us.

          He picked her up for their second date in one day: dinner and a movie.

          She suggested they go see the Jays the next weekend. “But the Jays were playing in Boston,” she told me, “so he’s like, ‘Let’s go to Boston!’”

          “I love this!” I shrieked. “I love spontaneity!”

          “So our next date was a 10-hour road trip to Boston to see the Jays. We’ve been to Jamaica,” she added. “We just moved in together.”

          “What?!”

          “Our landlord – she’s this little European woman – was like, ‘So you two are playing house?’” my friend imitated in her best old-school European accent.

          “I love this story!” I laughed.

          I love this story because she and her boyfriend didn’t question whether or not they were moving too fast. They didn’t adjust their pace to appease other people’s expectations of appropriate timing. I love this story because they didn’t let themselves lose their moment.

Happiness Tip: Come on, come on, come on, before the moment’s gone.

 
Previous: Is it Possible to Fake Your Way to Happy? Next: Just Leave It
 

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