We met on a Friday. I swore you would save me. Something with the way you looked at me from cross the room and pretended to hide when I looked back. I would like to think that the attraction was, at first, more than physical. Later that night you told me that you were in a phase - something to do with redheads with large asses. I remember the first words you ever said to me "Are you American?"

I asked you for a cigarette, although I never smoked. You asked me if I was playing a game on my Palm Pilot. In reality it was just a distraction, I was bored, could you tell?

I remember how excited I felt. I thought I had met someone different. Our conversation was so electric. We ran through encyclopedias of history in moments. Yet, our real connection wouldn't be fully understood till the next morning.

That night I brought you back to my place and we played MP3s all night. That was back when Napster was still around. I had probably 3 - 4 thousand MP3. We probably downloaded 30 more that night.

In the morning I wanted to play you a silly little song a guy I met lifetimes earlier had sent me (I think he wanted to fuck me). Instantaneously the correction was found.

Shocked, but still not enough to base a relationship on. Stranger things have happened, after all, yet we felt that it was somehow unique.

I remember saying, "WOW! In all of NYC, I met YOUR roommate."
In retrospect, it wasn’t really significant.

I remember that other man. The one you dropped me off at the Barnes and Nobles to meet. He told me quickly that I looked nothing like my snapshots and let me go. I didn't care. I had you. The one who I had met in the oddest of ways. The one who WAS admiring me from across the room. The one who listened to me. The one who didn't try to fuck me although I childishly brought him home. The one who....(must I say it??)...loved me.

Yea, I loved you too, but as they say love is fleeting.

In the end, we crashed, just like my hard drive. I lost all of those MP3 and I lost you. I think I miss the MP3 more.