Late on the first day, damn. It always sucks to be late, but it is worse on the first day. There is all that unfamiliarity to shake out. I looked through the window on the door. The class was facing the other way at least. I would have a moment to think. This was one of those classes with lots of participation, my least favorite. I thought about just walking away. I could come back the next day and not have really missed anything. Something inside me told me no though, step through the door, so I did. It was as expected, the entire class stopped and watched me. I was the absolute center of attention. I walked toward my seat. I was in no mood to be shy and pensive about being late. My body language spoke the words I almost muttered, "What the fuck are you all looking at". Such a show of independence in the face of all that first day nervousness just increased everyones focus on me. You could hear a dime drop as I made my way to the only open seat. With each step the only sound being the soft pat of my boots touching the ground. These few steps seemed to take forever. Finally, I found my seat and settled into it. The focus returned to the teacher. Blessed anonymity.

 I opened my notebook and like most days throughout my academic career, I tried to focus more on the teacher than the girls and simply survive. Already by this time, I realized that I was in the wrong class. I was in the right room but the wrong time, my class was next door. My class in this room would not start for 65 minutes. Since I had already interrupted the class once, I decided to just wait it out and my class would start next. In a short while, the teacher took attendance. It was the usual smattering of various random individuals. I was just waiting for the class to end, participating when it was needed, zoning out when it wasn't. However, during attendance a bombshell rolled off the professors lips. The totality of my shock was absolute. Samantha (...) said the teacher. "Sam is fine", came the response from the girl a few seats to my left. I couldn't see her. I didn't see her when I walked in originally, and I honestly had very little desire to see her. On my open notebook page I scribbled the words "It can't be". Seconds later, I followed that up with more words, in an increasing chicken scratch. "It's not possible", underlined to add my own emphasis. Finally, I scrawled below those "It's impossible". I couldn't say it out loud but it was too much to just think, so I put it to paper.

 I had been once again, thoroughly convinced I'd never see Samantha again. It simply wasn't possible. I'm forced to admit though, as summer turned and the fall semester was in the air I'd begun to think about her again. The odds were too long, that fate could toss her into my life again. I'd accepted that she was gone, and yet there she was. Part of me said the coincidences are too many, this is the work of god, the culmination of fate and destiny. My heart says to start the chase again. I've another semester to win this girl. My soul says she's left you for dead enough, you are free like the wind. Don't become burdened by her. Sometimes a series of events in a persons life are so unlikely to eschew logic's relentlessness. One can only accept that the hand of god may be at work and take the incredible series of coincidences as fate. Then one must ask themselves a question when faced with this fork. Do I reject fate and live in the blissful ignorance of what might have been or do I risk all on a long shot that probably wont pay off. Fate deals the cards, but we play the hand. That night, after seeing Samantha, this was the question that kept me from sleeping. I'd need time to mull it over. I decided to avoid any potential contact with her.

 For three weeks I intentionally avoided anyone walking out of the class that I accidentally entered. Then a time came, I hadn't seen Sam, didn't know if she'd dropped the class, was still there, was avoiding me like I was avoiding her or what. I had to know. I decided to watch those that left, see if I could spot Samantha and if she could feel me and if she would invite, dismiss or just give me direction. Give me permission and I'll chase to the ends of the Earth, Sam. You don't have to let me catch if that is your wish, but let me know it's OK to chase or let me know it's not and let me never think of you again. For two days I watched as many faces as I could leave the class, I didn't see Sam's. I had to accept that Sam was gone. Sam had evaporated into the sky like an ember from a fire. Initially, so bright and powerful, but tossed from the source it glows as an ember, floating ever skyward the ember burns its fuel. The further from the fire, the more obvious, but the faster it fades. Each bit of fuel turned to ash allows it to fly that much higher but also uses up the spark that provides its splendor. Eventually the fuel is spent and the ember disappears into the night sky. Eyes again turn towards the fire, awaiting the next ember to separate itself. It was time for my eyes to return to the fire pit. With a heavy, but consoled heart, I accepted that it was time to move on.

 A scant week later though, fates winding tendrils bound me to her again. I was late to my class, quite late, 10 minutes or more, at least this time I'd be late to the right class. I knew I'd be late before I left, so I steadily went about getting ready. The acceptance that one will be late is a relaxing, if not guilty, pleasure. I enjoyed my ride to school immensely . No pressure to speed or carve up traffic. Just a beautifully sunny ride, enjoying the warm fall air and the unbound freedom only a motorcycle can provide. As I walked to my class I decided for, hope, to look into that classroom I'd accidentally walked into weeks before. When I did, about a troops worth of girls reached for their hair or turned eyes towards me. Only one stood out, only one mattered. It was her, it was Sam. As undeniable as her smile so many months before, this too couldn't be denied. I passed by in a flash and came to the open door of my classroom. I looked in for a moment and my teacher saw me. For a long second I stood in the door way, faced with two options, I'd come to a fork. I decided that I had to know exactly what I had just seen. I walked back to that classroom and again looked in the window.

 There she was, the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life. She seemed a glow, she stood out, embossed from the world around her, the only bit of color in a black and white world. She gave me a big hair toss and there it was, a brief flash of that old power, that connection, I felt her. I spent my entire class time thinking of her. For a few strange, brief, beautiful moments, though seperated by a wall, I swore I could feel her again. My class always ends before hers does. As much as I wanted to see her, I also didn't want to. I didn't want to revisit the past, too many painful memories. Too much embarrassment on my part. I didn't know what to say, I wouldn't know what to say. Like that night at the ski area, so great is my desire not to mess it up the path remains obfuscated. Though my next class is in the classroom she'd be leaving, I ran, I hid. I ducked around a corner and sat on a bench with my head resting in my hands until I was sure she had to be gone. Though I wanted nothing more than to be near her, I couldn't face her, not yet. Seeing Sam, made it clear to me that she still holds a place in heart, not just a place, but this girl holds a spot no one else could ever hold. She's the only person on the planet I'd modify my dream for.

 No one of right mind would tell me I'm anything but a fool to care for this girl like I do. I don't even know her, yet in some ways I know her better than words could ever explain. They seem such a pointless triviality when there is a connection that runs to the soul. It is a fools errand to chase her any further. Yet, fate has crossed our paths again and I can't deny that she is the spark that keeps the flame of my soul alight. Without her, or at least the hope of her, my dreams are never quite whole. I must painfully admit that I don't believe this is the begining of the story. A piece of me clings to the hope though, that in due time, fate will once again intervene and this wont be the end of it either. Just when I thought things were starting to become clearer...