Because dinner is "free" for me on Mondays and Wednesdays, I stopped by my sorority house for a delicious meal this evening. Now that I cook for myself most nights, I practically crave homemade meals prepared by someone else. Where the food just magically appears, and I don't have to do the dishes.
And the food has gotten so much better since I moved out. Not fair.
But not my point.
I got here a bit early, before dinner was set out (buffet style), so I opened up my laptop to get some work done. I was deep in concentration, trying to decide if I had enough curiosity to click on a YouTube link someone had posted on Facebook, when I heard a knock on the door.
Which is pretty unusual.
Usually people either automatically get into the sorority house because they live here and have a key code, or they ring the doorbell.
No one else was milling around the lobby or front door area at the time, so I got up to answer the door.
On the other side was a timid looking fellow, who handed me a note.
"Can you give this to Kirbi?"
"Kirbi who?"
He told me her last name, but didn't know what room she was in. Neither did I. I don't live here anymore, and my grasp on the names of the freshmen and sophomores is vague at best.
But I asked around, and luckily found her up in the second floor TV lounge with a couple friends.
"Kirbi?"
"Yeah?"
"A gentleman at the front door just left this for you."
Her friend shot up from the couch. "No way! Again?!"
Kirbi grabbed the letter eagerly, and opened it with a huge grin.
There's something wonderfully heartwarming about being a messenger. I'm still smiling.
Ah, young love.
But seriously. If a guy decides he wants to write me love notes and mysteriously drop them by my house or place of work, I wont complain. I'll melt, actually.
Puddle of mush.
My friends would be routinely wiping me up off the floor.
I'm just so happy now. It's amazing how being a part of a moment like that, even from the very outside, feels so . . . fulfilling.
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