I’ve been thinking about a girl who was just like soma, a girl who’d said we should be pals, trying to find a reason she wouldn’t be interested in me. It haunts me, maybe for my own ego, but still, it haunts me. We were both brilliant, energetic; so many similarities. Our only difference was that I wanted her and she not want to be wanted.

After talking to a friend about her, he reminded me of something I mentioned once. She failed the test.

The test is this. When you go on a date with a girl, pull up to where she lives. Before you get out of the car, lock both doors. Then, get out of the car and walk over to her. Bring her over to the car, unlock her door, and open it for her. As you walk around the back of the car, look through the rear window. If she doesn’t reach over and unlock your door so that you can get in, dump her. If she doesn’t reach over and lift up that button so that you can get in, that means she’s selfish and all you’re seeing is the tip of the iceberg.

It was then that I realized I could never be with her, and it was then that I never wanted soma again.

The very first time that I saw her, we never spoke, and she didn’t notice me. But I noticed her. She was gorgeous, it was impossible not to. We didn’t speak the next time that I saw her, either, but I remembered her from before and, again, she was gorgeous. The third time that I saw her, we spoke. Even her voice was gorgeous, because she chose her words so delicately and put them together so softly.

That day we spoke for hours. She was so elegant in conversation, so undeniably captivating. I remember feeling fortunate when I was with her while the sun went down. I felt that same way when the sun came up.

I picked her up for dinner the following day. Her eyes held something alluring within them. So inviting and exciting and intimate. Afterwards we went for a walk to get to know each other further. Beliefs aligned, interests aligned, ambitions aligned. Everything clicked.

Click.

Click.

And then she said she wanted to be pals. Not friends. Pals.

Bang.

At the time, I was certain that I was playing my hand well, and now I’m even more certain that I was wrong. I should have gambled more when I needed to instead of just waiting for her to act. I never had control of the situation. I was confident she would call, and it left me in that familiar awkward situation all over again. Déja vù. I never had her, and yet, it felt like I lost her all over again.