I was seventeen the first time I experienced a missed connection.

I was on the metro in Washington, D.C. and I saw a man in a business suit, he was very young. He had clear skin. It was dark but his jet black hair was even darker. It was wavy and pretty long for a guy in a business suit. He had a briefcase, and on top of the briefcase was a sketchbook and some charcoal. Like that Hozier song, "Someone New", I fell momentarily in love with a little bit of him. I never will know what happened to him. I was eighteen the second time it happened. I was at the Acropolis in Athens, Greece. Again, I saw a man, sitting against a pillar of the Temple of Athena, sketching the Parthenon.

I was nineteen the third time it happened. Except for this time I talked to him. In line at a CD signing (I swear, I'm not that old) in Little Five Points in Downtown Atlanta, Georgia. We talked about Childish Gambino and Daughter, Death Cab for Cutie and Ben Howard. I saw him later that night at the Daughter concert that I was there for -but we didn't talk. I chickened out.

Missed connections are like a shot in the dark but I still think about them every once in a while. When I recount some of the more beautiful moments during my life. When I think about the fleeting winds of chance. I wonder what happened to these people, I wonder what their stories are and how fate has faired them. I wonder if they have ever seen someone and felt that same connection. Sometimes I wonder if anyone has ever looked at me and felt that instant connection.

Like we knew each other in another life.

I was twenty-one the next time it happened. The first Tuesday of my fall semester -the first day of my senior year of college- I walked into a classroom. Someone walked in after me. An instant, fleeting connection. I still see him around sometimes. I wonder if he'll be the next missed connection.