Sunday, Nov. 30, 2003 | 6:10 PM

I got back to Boston. I checked my email. He wrote me. The boy from the bus. He asked me to go out. The boy from the bus, the beautiful sweet insightful intelligent boy from the bus with the indie rock tan sweater and wheat colored hair wants to see me again. I really wasn�t expecting anything at all. I was just so thankful to have met him, to have have had the chance to spend ten hours with someone so completely wonderful. I want to know him. I want to sit down with him for another ten hours and pick his brain. I cannot discount that there is some greater force in the universe at times like these. I almost missed that bus. If I had been three minutes later than I was to South Station, I never would have known him�never would have known that there was someone so smart and funny and talented and insightful and kind. I�d been at a crossroads when I got on that bus. I felt stonewalled and lost. Being with him for that ten hours, listening to him, talking to him�everything that was cloudy and hurtful and indecipherable became clear. The truth floated to the top of my consciousness from the depths like the fortune in a magic eight ball. Never ever in my life entire have I connected with someone so immediately. I�m gushing and I�m not going to stop. My shields went down. There was no effort. I didn�t feel like I had to impress him or flirt with him or any of that preliminary bullshit. I felt like I could 100% be myself, I felt in those ten hours that I regained something I�d lost�and not in that bullshit ego stroaking waywhere he made me feel good about myself. I learned from him. We learned from each other.

Oh wow�and that it happened on Thanksgiving�what better metaphor is there than that? Beautiful. Just beautiful.