July 3rd, 2010. I was at a party on a rooftop in Brooklyn, sitting in a circle with Hal, Fesh and a semi-conscious Riley. A girl came and sat with us. She was beautiful and interesting and funny; it didn’t occur to me to be nervous, because it didn’t occur to me that I had a shot. I’d recently been on a string of unsuccessful internet dates, preceded by a year of celibacy, preceded by a (celibate) year of cancer treatments, preceded by a year of celibacy, preceded by a rough breakup. It seemed very plausible to me that I’d never fall in love again.
If you can relate to that at all, guess what: Love might just come sit with you at a party on a rooftop in Brooklyn. Possibly tonight.