A month ago, I met a girl at a fair and was completely smitten. I went over to talk to her, and our conversation went really well. I asked if maybe she could show me around the town, to which she casually said yes, but we didn’t make any immediate plans. She even mentioned that I should come by the coffee shop where she works in a nearby town and said she works on Sundays. Before I could ask for her contact info, my mom called me away, and our conversation was abruptly interrupted.

Two weeks later, I went to the coffee shop, but I didn’t feel much chemistry that time, so I just smiled, worked on my books, had my coffee, and left, saying goodbye as I left. I went again the following Sunday. This time, I sensed some warmth, but still didn’t feel inclined to say anything personal, so again, I smiled, worked on my books, and left after saying goodbye.

At this point, I just feel happy looking at her and don’t expect anything. I feel like I’ll miss her — even though we only really talked once, and afterward it was just smiles. I feel some warmth and happiness just from seeing her on Sundays, though she is still pretty much a stranger. I don’t know how she views my quiet visits, especially since she knows I’m coming from a nearby town when there are coffee shops in my own town!

In cases like this, I experience a fluctuation between a deep sense of familiarity and a sudden, odd feeling of “eww… why am I doing this?” But with her, it’s mostly the former. The latter feeling arises when I suddenly realize, out of nowhere, how much of a stranger I still am to her.

But then again, most couples or friends were once strangers — it’s not like they always knew each other. Maybe this is what humans have always done — like a hunter-gatherer who sees a girl from a distant tribe during a hunt and keeps going to places where he might see her again.

Even in literature, there’s Vronsky moving to another city for Anna when he barely knew her. But it’s best to keep these feelings within one’s own soul. Imagine if Vronsky told his friends or family about his plans — they’d probably call him a fool.

It’s not just in love. Even in academic pursuits, if Einstein had said before 1905 that he was working on something that would question Newton, he would have been called a fool.

I liken those who pursue only predictable romance — like in arranged marriages, dating apps, or blind dates — to those who pursue practical, “reasonable” things in life, such as a well-paying job or buying a house.

What dreamers are after often doesn’t make sense at first. But it’s worth it — even if dreamers fail at everything they hope for. There is something mystical about the mix of familiarity from the first person perspective, and strangeness from the third person perspective.