It was a sunny New York winter day. The kind that almost felt like it was still fall.
I was in a coffee shop, reading a novel. Romantic, right?
But then I saw him. His sparkling blue eyes met mine and I knew we were meant to be.
I shyly glanced away, but when I looked back up, his gaze met mine yet again.
We half-smiled.
I couldn’t bear it. I looked again, and I knew. It was love at first sight.
He met my eyes and his face lit up. This was a real smile.
It was almost as if he read my mind. I glanced away and so did he.
When he walked out of that coffee shop, I knew I would never see him again.
Such is the tragic state of love in New York City.
The rational ramblings of a feminist 