The Day
"Me" Became "Us"

Honestly, I had no real reason to go.

I already had a job. A good one, better than anything I had imagined for myself at this point. And I had been to Taylor's career fair before, back when I was still a student who needed those kinds of things. I knew what it was. Same hall. Same booths. Same energy of people trying to sell you something you didn't come for.

I told myself not to go.

And then I went anyway.

I walked in. And yeah, exactly what I expected. New graduates looking lost. Banks giving out free pens. Insurance agents with their big smiles and bigger brochures. I did one full round in maybe ten minutes. Waste of time.

I smiled to myself. April Fool's, but in December. Twice I've done this now. Twice.April fool maari feel aachu — aana December-la. Rendu thadava pannitten idha.ஏப்ரல் ஃபூல் மாதிரி — ஆனா டிசம்பர்ல. இரண்டு தடவை.

I was about to leave. I really was. Then I noticed one of the agents moving toward me with that kind of fast walk and big smile, the type who already has your name in their mouth. So I made a quick turn to avoid him, went down the right side row instead.

And at the end of that row, near an insurance booth, I saw her.

Black shirt. Black pants. Big black glasses. Hair all curly and loose, falling around her face like she just let it do whatever it wanted. She was standing in front of an insurance agent who was talking at her, not to her, at her and her face was just… blank. Confused. Like she was trying to figure out the polite way to disappear.

I noticed all of that in maybe five seconds.

I walked past her. I don't know why I slowed down.

I stopped. Turned around. There she was, looking at me. She had asked me —> a complete stranger —> if I spoke Tamil. And her voice. I don't know how to explain it. It just hit different.Ava voice. Epdi sollurathu theriyala. Vera maadiri hit aachu.அவள் குரல். எப்படி சொல்லுவது தெரியல. வேற மாதிரி feel ஆச்சு.

I said yes. My voice came out way too low... I laugh about this every time... so I cleared my throat and said yes again, properly. "Sollege."

She turned to the agent and told him she didn't understand Malay and asked if he could please leave her alone. I just stepped in, said she doesn't understand, please go. He left. She said thank you. And then she walked away.

I walked out of the hall feeling a little stupid. Not bad-stupid. Just that quiet kind of regret where you're like... okay, you had one job.

I was hungry, so I went to the café nearby to get bread. Which, for the record, I never do. I don't go buy bread for lunch. But that day I did.

I stood at the entrance for a second. I'm not the type who usually walks up to a girl I don't know. I talk to strangers fine but this felt different. This felt like something.

I walked over anyway. With a smile. That's all I had.

"Are you good?"

She looked up at me. And she smiled. Not a polite smile. The real kind. The kind that comes before you even decide to smile. And the moment she did that, I felt calm. Like all the nerves just stepped aside and said okay, you've got this.

So we talked. I couldn't help it. I had to ask. I told her she looked well above 20, so how come she doesn't speak Malay? She smiled and said, "You know German?" I said no. She went, "Then what?" with a little laugh."Unakku German theriyuma?" Theriyaathu nu sonnen. "Appo?"... solli sirichaa."உனக்கு ஜெர்மன் தெரியுமா?" தெரியாது. "அப்போ?" — சிரிச்சா.

And I just stopped. Wait. Are you from Germany? She looked at me like I said something crazy. No, she said. I'm from Salem. India.

Man. I got so excited. I love India: the culture, the food, the people suddenly I had a hundred things to talk about. But something felt a little different about her. Her accent was not quite what I expected. She was very picky about restaurants, about hygiene, like she was used to a different kind of clean. I noticed it but I kept talking. I liked talking with her.

Before we left, I asked if we could exchange numbers. She was okay with that. So we did.

We talked every day after that. More and more. We got close fast... the kind of close that surprises you when you look back at the timeline.

Then one day, after a long time, I went to see her. I waited under her apartment block. She opened the gate and walked out.

And I just — froze.

She came down wearing jhumka, pothu, a black dress. All the things she knew I liked, like she chose every detail for me. But it wasn't just what she was wearing. It was her eyes. The moment she looked at me, I saw it. Clear. No hiding, no maybe, just clear. Something was there.Clear. Maraikkavillai, doubt illai — romba clear. Onnu irukku.Clear. மறைக்கல, doubt இல்ல — ரொம்ப clear. ஒண்ணு இருக்கு.

And I melted. Like properly, completely melted. Straight Gautham Menon movie scene. I always thought those moments only happen in films. The slow walk out, the eye contact, the feeling that hits all at once. But it happened. To me. In real life.

I hugged her. Tight. We didn't even speak for a minute. She hugged me back. And in that silence I knew okay, this is real. We both feel this. This isn't just me.

I kissed her on the forehead.

And then she told me the truth. She's not from India. She's from Denmark.

I didn't know how to feel. I wasn't jealous, not even a little. I had a small plan to move abroad for my master's, but I was never serious about it. What hit me was the long-term fear. If she earns more than me, will her family truly accept me? Even as a student there, even part-time, she earns more than me. I know money doesn't compare cleanly across countries, cost of living changes everything. But still, that small voice came. Can I match this? Am I even in the same world as her?Naan match panna mudiyuma? Ava world-la naan irukkenaa?நான் match பண்ண முடியுமா? அவள் world-ல நான் இருக்கேனா?

I felt small for a bit. Not because of her. She never made me feel that way. Just me, and my own head, doing what heads do.

We talked through it. We kept talking. And then the day came that I had been trying not to think about.

The day she flew back to Denmark.

I'm 24. The last time I cried — really cried — I was maybe 15 or 16.

That day at the airport, after she went through immigration and stepped onto the escalator, I watched her go. And something in me just broke. Right there. I didn't show it. I held it in. I walked slowly to my car. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes. The whole walk, my mind was everywhere. All the memories. All the laughs. All the small things. And I was holding it all in, step by step, breath by breath.

The moment I got into the car and closed the door, I broke completely. I shouted. I cried. I was a mess, mad and sad and full at the same time. Twenty minutes I sat there like that.

Then I wiped my face. Started the car. Drove out.

I parked at a bridge nearby. Got out. Stood there looking at the airport from far away, the lights, the planes, the sky. I just stood there collecting every memory of her — every moment we had — and I let myself feel all of it.

And in those few seconds, something became clear to me.

I want to be the right person for her.Avakku correct-ana aal aaganum.அவக்கு சரியான ஆள் ஆகணும். Not perfect, I know I'm not perfect.Perfect illai — theriyum.Perfect இல்ல — தெரியும். But if not me, then no one.Naan illati vere yaarum illai.நான் இல்லன்னா வேற யாரும் இல்ல. The feelings are real. Hers are real. And whatever it takes, I'll go. I'll get there.En feelings true. Ava feelings true. Ethuvum aagilum, naan varuvaen.என் feelings true. அவள் feelings true. எதுவும் ஆகிலும், நான் வருவேன்.

I took my phone. And I typed.