as if everything led to this moment

It's 2:32 a.m.

I just got home.

Three hours ago, I was waiting on Main Street for a man I first wrote to on Tuesday, picking out his shape from the end of the block.

Every now and then in my life, I've felt a compulsion to do something, to go somewhere, as if it were a necessity, as though a magnet were embedded in this one moment in my life.

While it made no logical sense, I had to go tonight, in the same way that I knew I had to write to him. I couldn't say why it had to be tonight, at 11:30 (or why he even thought this was a good idea), in a town where we had no other option than to walk in the cold, or go to a bar. (We did both.)

I remember, the morning after breaking up with The Ex, asking God why this had happened to me.

I think God actually answered me.

I realized about an hour into our conversation that this man was trying to tell me he was a Muslim, and was desperately afraid I'd find it creepy. Given the fact that we'd both just been in a bar, this was actually rather comforting--although he initially thought I was joking when I told him that I had converted a year and a half ago.

He also thinks that Radar is adorable (in photographs).

In conclusion, I just went on a date with a dog-loving, liberal screenwriter who enjoys boxing, James Joyce, and appears to be the same sort of Muslim I proclaimed myself to be in my last post.

Also, he thinks I'm really funny.

When I awake from the coma that I must be deeply within, someone please remind me of this dream I had. I want to remember it.