Sponsored, in part, by Electricity.

His eyes dart back and forward, only occasionally stopping at me.

I, on the other hand, can't stop looking at him.

I follow his eyes.

Electricity.

Conversation is better than with others, but I still manage to feel inadequate. Always smart, except now. Always witty, except now. Always funny, but not now.

I can't listen enough. Waiting for my moment to contribute.

Right now, though, I'm a head nodding robot.

Electricity.

He's eating away at his food. Never missing a beat.

I can barely touch my food. I fumble with it. Pulling it apart. Playing with my food. My mother would not be happy.

We speak of law school dreams. For obvious different reasons.

We are worlds apart. Sitting in the same Spanish restaurant across each other, but worlds apart.

Eyes still darting. I try to follow his eyes and end up with nothing.

I make a joke. he acknowledges it, but doesn't smile. Doesn't give me any credit. I give him too much credit.

I look around the room. I want to remember.

Everything.

I find a picture of Jesus. Sacred heart and all.

Point it out. (so clever I am)

"It was really hard for me to realize I don't believe in God," he says.

And i have so much to contribute, but I open my mouth and only manage silence.

He's staring at me. Big brown eyes.The floor is mine.

I ramble about mankind's need for faith. To know that after we die, we're still "something."

No air quotes, though.

Who wants to die and be nothing?

"I'll never be nothing. I'm electricity. I have a soul. Electricity is everywhere."

He's Electric.

Boogey woogey woogey.

Conversation feels so right.

Too right.

I feel it.

Electricity.

And he says, holding the door open, "A pleasure. Like always."

Bullshit.