One Life To Live ( A Princeton Love Story)

Enigmatic Presence

"The habit of love cuts through confusion and stumbles or contrives its way out of difficulty, it remembers the way even when it forgets, for a dumbfounded moment, its reason for being. The path is the thing that matters." - Eudora Welty

*GINGER*

My eyes scanned over the printed words in quiet anxiety and anticipation. Jacob had sent me my plane ticket for San Francisco. Shutting my eyes, the reality of it all eternalized itself in my head. I shoved the ticket underneath a stack of papers on my desk as I reopened my eyes. The incessant groan of the library's copy machine extended a dull and sluggish atmosphere. I lightly rested my chin on my hand. A sudden desperation for excitement got my mind reeling with a conflicting mix of fantasy and memory.

Half-lost images of Jacob floated aimlessly in my brain like distant clouds. I stitched myself into those thoughts of him and fabricated romantic scenes. Just for a split moment, I reveled in my child-like peace. My romanticizing was promptly interrupted by that infamous angularly sculpted face.

He was somewhat of a stranger to me, but only because I still hadn't learned his name. However, we were also (in a weirder way) acquaintances due to our nonverbal acknowlegements of each other's presence. So, all together, he was a "familiar stranger." I subconsciously established his identity as this.

As he entered the library, he almost seemed to levitate with an incoming breeze because of his effortless confidence and grace. An impassioned fury laid behind his eyes; flecks of vivid color shimmered. He possessed a European essence and highly pronounced cheekbones in addition to his athletic anatomy.

Despite his regular visits, I had not gotten use to his physical features. They transcended the typical being in some sort of way that I could not explain. Every time I saw him I noticed another distinctive trait. I then gave recognition to his full lips and clear complexion.

Before my mind could register back into full awareness, the "familiar stranger" was standing directly in front of me.

"I think it's about time we formally introduce ourselves," he murmured to me. His voice was smooth, calm, and resolute.

A jumbled heap of words formed in my mouth; it felt like my head wouldn't cooperate with my mouth in order to communicate.

"I don't bite," he laughed. The intimidation dissipated just in time for me to jokingly respond: "I didn't think you were the type to bite, anyway."

"My name is Travis," he said as he extended his hand.

I said the name to myself to verify that all of this was happening, just so that I knew i wasn't imagining all of the events. At times, I couldn't trust myself enough to distinguish the imaginary from the real.

"Nice to be acquainted with you," I said to Travis. "I'm Ginger."

Travis smirked, "That name suits you well."

I smiled a half smile, but all the warmth still existed in it.

For the next three hours, we chatted about trivial affairs. Not once was I bored because Travis had a mystical way of making the most unimporant, humdrums of the day seem larger than life. After weeks of seeing his face, I finally had a name to match it to.

Throughout all our conversation, I neglected to mention Jacob. I decided I wouldn't drive Travis away with my overly emotional woes.

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