It was this day 12 years ago. We, introduced by a mutual friend because of a common pursuit of music, had spoken once on the phone earlier that week when you called me. When the phone rang, strangely, I had been on my knees, praying. We spoke of some mutual friends we had and said we should get together to see if we might collaborate musically. Then I impulsively called you on the Saturday morning of Memorial Day weekend to ask if you were doing anything on Monday. I was surprised you weren’t since it seemed most people had plans.
So on this day 12 years ago, we set the date and time where we would meet for the first time. I wrote it down on a small piece of paper in my Bible along with your phone number. Daniel Cho 116th and Broadway. We would meet right at the main gates of Columbia near where you were living at the time. You would bring a guitar.
After we spoke, I didn’t think about it much. In truth, I had another young guy coming over that day – a friend from college who was interested in me for quite a few years, but I just didn’t feel the same way. He was always making impromptu visits to my parent’s house even though he lived in another state. That night we went out to dinner in the city and he asked me to go up to the Empire State building with him, but I was saving that experience for “the one,” so I politely declined and said I had to get home.
Somehow, I was already hoping that “one” was you.