Serendipity Street
The summer of 2018 wasn’t easy. I was, in the simplest way possible, being beaten up by the city of New York and trying to find my way in new friend groups, challenges at work, and all the joys society brings us in our late 20s. Bills, never-ending humidity, and figuring out who I was and what I wanted.
Earlier that summer, I ended a relationship in which nothing negative on paper could be written. The relationship was part of the impetus for moving to the city, it allowed me to meet really great people, navigate the concrete jungle, and ultimately get me out of my shell a bit. However, I think I knew for months it wasn’t end game and the other person deserved more from a partner. It ended and I was single in New York. Any gay man’s dream, honestly.
I was walking home from work one afternoon in October. It was, in all meanings of the word, a boring day. It was fall and I cherished my long walks anywhere. I walked about 30 min on my standard route, one specific route I took every single day for over 6 months without fail. The previous weekend, one of my dearest friends Nicole got married. I was over the moon for her and had a blast celebrating, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t still upset over another failed relationship and the single-ness of it all. Not news to anyone, but being solo at a wedding sometimes brings out that under-the-surface, quiet loneliness that is pretty detrimental to your overall satisfaction. The night was a blur of dancing and alcohol but the clear part was how badly I was ready for something new.
Fast forward 4 days. Headphones in ears. Power walking home down 2nd Avenue in the East Village. I was wearing a maroon lululemon top, bomber jacket, jeans, and a pair of converse.
As I made my way across the crosswalk at the intersection of 9th and 2nd, I saw him. Right in front of Otto’s Taco shop stood Ryan. He was handsome in the sort of subtle way where you aren’t sure whether he knows he is handsome really well or doesn’t even realize it at all. He was wearing a backwards hat and gym clothes and was on the phone talking to someone. We made eye contact, which I can only describe as eye contact I have never had before. He looked into me instead of at me. We were a couple feet apart as I walked by, music still blaring.
The eye contact was deep and I couldn’t help but smile. He smiled back and stayed on the phone. 5-10 seconds passed as I continued walking. I don’t remember exactly what I was thinking other than the “holy forking shirtballs” of the moment. That look was different. It was honest and familiar. That face, in fact, looked particularly familiar.
After almost getting to the next block, I looked back in stride. He was still smiling at me and for a second, I almost turned around. This is the part where gay people play the fun game of “was he looking at me? Is he even gay? I sound crazy” so I’ll just keep on walking.
I only had 3 more blocks until I was back at my east village apartment and by the time I was up the three flights of stairs, the synapse fired and I already knew what I didn’t know 3 minutes earlier.
“I’ve seen him somewhere before!”
I knew I had seen that grin and smile before, accompanied by light facial hair and a strong flat brim hat game. I threw my work bag on the ground and got out my phone. I opened up a dating app called “Chappy” and went to my matches.
On September 30th, I messaged Ryan with a real attention grabber of “hi there.” Our first conversation. He messaged back immediately and said “Hi Derek! How are you?” I answered with “Hi :) I’m good how are you?”
No response. We still laugh to this day that Ryan didn’t initially respond to me, although he claims it was because I waited one day before replying to him.
Fast forward again to October 9th. I found the conversation and aimed to shoot again.
D: “This is completely random but any chance you were just in the EV? Could have sworn I saw you. Feel free to call me insane if you’re not even near there.”
Five minutes later, the phone dinged.
R: “Hi - yes! Were you walking down second ave near st marks and I was on the phone? Did we look at each other because I could have sworn I recognized the cute boy I saw walking past me but I couldn’t place him.”
Hook, line, and sinker. Little did either of us know, Ryan and I had lived three blocks away from each other for eight months. We chatted on the app for a bit, then texted that evening. Small banter but nothing substantial. I think both of us had such poor luck and a roller coaster experience with online dating that our hopes weren’t completely up just yet. Ryan let me know he walked out the door in search of a smoothie, but something told him to go get tacos. I’m so glad he did.
We decided to go on a date the following Sunday since Ryan was flying to Argentina for the weekend with his cousin Ali. I told him he could easily postpone since he would be jet lagged but he insisted we keep it. He texted me from Argentina that he was thinking of me and the hopes of this boy got higher and higher until Sunday rolled around. Standard recipe for disaster as a single gay man.
He told me to pick a place so I thought of a place that would be perfect for when my expectations were crushed. Just a bar, no dinner plans. I chose a random East Village bar I had never been to, in anticipation that it would be easier to escape. I showed up early, as I do, and waited for Ry. I had already nervously finished half a vodka soda when Ry walked in, more handsome than I remembered. Black hat. Black T-shirt. Leather jacket. Yep, definitely way too cool for me. Hopefully this will be painless, I thought.
Four hours went by effortlessly, and a stranger became a friend.
We talked about our likes and dislikes, time in new york, and our goals for the future. We touched on our love of family, heartbreaks, and even his father’s passing (the one topic he swore to himself he wouldn’t cover on the first night). It was the first time ever that either of us felt like we could be completely ourselves on day one. We were unfiltered, we were our whole selves, and didn’t have to play a game. I realized he was a theater geek and emotional softy like me, contrary to his stylish appearance. One planned drink turned into three or four, and I asked if he was hungry. He also was hungry and we agreed we should get mexican (both of our favorites) at a place near both of our apartments. As we headed toward the restaurant, Ryan grabbed my hand, My heart skipped a beat and I continued to tell myself to relax and take it slowly. Surely, the gigantic red flag was coming.
Dinner was a blur of more sparks and more surprising conversation. No flags.
“What’s on your mind?” Ryan said as we walked away from dinner.
“Nothing! I just really don’t want the night to end” I said.
Ryan took me right to the wine store around the corner and got a bottle. We went right to the rooftop of his apartment building nearby. He was a gentleman and refused to take me inside, which we both later appreciated.
Wine poured, he asked me to play some music. I showed him my adoration for Sara Bareilles and he showed me the embarrassing fact that he still used Pandora as a streaming service. The lights were really bright that night.
We shared our first kiss. As I left his building, I texted both my sister and mom that I thought I had just met my husband. Ryan called his mom and told her the same.
October 14th ended. My favorite day in the history of ever. The next day on my same walk to work, I took the thumbnail picture of this post. The exact spot where we “met.”
You have to be ready. You have to be shaped by grief and first loves and a life full of experiences. If you cannot be fully yourself or you feel like you are losing part of yourself, it’s not it. If you feel like you need the other person to survive, it’s not it. You have to find your best friend. Although Ry and I have spent almost every day together since that day, magic takes work to continue. The serendipity of that day will always be with us, but relationships take work. We fight. We miscommunicate. We passionately have to realign on our goals, our focuses, and our needs in order to survive.
We may be far away from our day one, but we are so damn grateful that it happened.
I’m not saying you’ll definitely fall in love with your literal neighbor or that your next trip to the grocery store will bring excitement to your life.
Cross the road, keep your head up, and who knows what life will toss you. That routine walk may have an experience you’ve only dreamt of. That date could be all you’ve hoped for.
Be open to the street you are on, and all that comes with it.
