I met a girl on Saturday. We were introduced by a mutual friend, although "friend" is probably a bit strong. It was a very pleasant dinner, and we finished up our conversation with dessert and non-coffee coffee. And she seems to be one of the most genuinely nice people I have ever met. That is causing me no small amount of distress.

I finished The Picture of Dorian Gray, the third pleasure read of my research years. Is it vain to say that I identified with him? Is it sad?

Me: She's a really ... good person. And I am not.

I remember hearing somewhere about how we shouldn't focus so much on what we want our future spouses to be, but rather try to be what our future spouses would want. Or some such cute phrasing. But time seems to wear down every conviction, and even if I was that person at some point, I've long since marred my portrait.

She: Do you drink coffee?

Me: I used to never drink coffee, but in the past year or so I've started drinking it more often. Maybe once or twice a week. How about you?

She: Every single day.

Will you believe me when I tell you that there was more conviction in those three words than in anything I've said in forever? I don't even know how to relate to that.

Yet.