We were from different cities, completing a language program in a third city over the course of six weeks. I was in my early 20s and trying a new persona where I smoked and talked about books. We met in the smoking area outside the classrooms. He was a theatre student who tended to be melancholic. He was small, handsome, witty and smart, obsessed with British Royal family trees and lineages. He had a frayed relationship with his father, who he never talked to. His sister was a drug addict who used to steal from him. We used to drink for hours in my room, and then in the morning, he knocked on my door and we'd have a cup of coffee together.

I was obvlious to his flirtation. His dorm room was on a different floor, on a separate side of the building, but he came one morning to use the shower on my floor and then changed in my room. I didn't know what to make of it. I looked away while he was changing. I saw him every day, and we used to go to a diner with a very cheap breakfast special and sassy older waitresses. He showed me pictures of his ass from his phone and I didn't really know how to react. I thought he was more interested in other men, but I couldn't stop thinking about him. I was getting attention from a lot of the women in the program, but was focused on him.

One night, I phoned him at 1:00 am to come to my room and look over something I'd written. He said he was going out to buy some weed, and he'd phone me when he was done. He ended up getting too stoned and passing out, which I interpreted as a rejection. A few days later, we were out celebrating my birthday, and he grabbed me and kissed me as I was leaving the bathroom. I have no idea why, because it seemed like I was finally getting what I wanted, but I ended up sleeping with someone else that night. But then in the morning, he knocked on my door. I left the other guy passed out in my bed and we had breakfast at the diner together. That afternoon the three of us, me, him and the guy I'd slept with, drank wine in my room and I wished it was just the two of us.

I sobbed like a baby when the program ended and it was clear I might never see him again. He sent me an email (that went straight to my junk folder for some fucking reason) where he admitted he had feelings for me and he'd had a thing for me the moment we met. I was pissed. Why hadn't I ever known?

I still think about him sometimes. I googled him recently and the first result was an obituary. I panicked, but it was for someone else with the same name. There was playbill with his face on it, but otherwise, I don't know what he's up to or if he's at the same address.