Stella Faleur was someone I had resigned to think could maybe be a friend someday. She was gorgeous, funny, a joy to talk to, a joy to listen to, a joy to just be in the presence of. If I could simply be her friend, I’d chalk it up as a win.

I just figured each of our lives would keep us from being anything more than that.

Yet on a snowy night at my apartment, I found myself locking eyes with her, moments before we kissed for the first time. As our lips met and we lost ourselves to the moment, I thought to myself that if it was just for one night, it was maybe one of the biggest wins of my life.

If my mind could have focused on anything else, I probably would have tried to trace it all back and figure out how things could end up so perfect, even for just a moment. One of those total movie freezeframe deals before a flashback. Instead, our mutual focus was on kissing and then shortly after tearing each other’s clothes off, which was probably better than a cliché.