The Metamorphasis of a Boy in Pink Shoes and a Girl in Thigh High Boots.

She remembered the first thought that crossed her mind about him.

This guy is seriously born in the wrong era.

His eyes were wild, and his slicked-back hair disguised his lucid mind.

“Everything is art” — he eccentrically declared.

She managed to not roll her corporatized eyes, but could not resist proving her own preconceived notion about him right. She was simple, he was complex. He scared her because he was a foreigner invading her structured world, yet she was intrigued. His mind was an aberration of everything she had been taught to believe. She felt dangerously alive again.

Her eyes caught sight of an opportunity to provoke her own insecurity and she couldn’t help herself. She had been blind too long to recall what it meant to see the light.

“What’s that ring about?” — she bluntly questioned him. She was referring to the red and golden embellishment, that seemed too loud for his own good.

She smiled to herself, her perception was confirming her bias. This guy thinks he is part of the Illuminati and carries a coat of arms to validate his own ego behind inherited wealth. Lovely.

“I am part of a Nobel lineage, and this is my family ring.” — he stated with proud conviction, still not sensing her air of sarcasm.

Her assumption was now a valid theory. She was ready to move on, but there was something about him that made him mesmerizing. He was a complete alien. Out of courtesy, she asked a follow-up question.

“So, what did you do today?” — it was a mundane question because her mind had been deprived of freedom for such a long time.

She would be proven incredibly wrong because he was far from a material elitist, and she was about to have her first encounter with a Nobel mind. Not the royal kind, but the kind that would allow her to rediscover herself. He is truly worthy of a Nobel prize for such a feat, but such gestures go unrewarded, which makes the act even more noteworthy.

“I attended an art exhibit, skateboarded, and read some philosophy.” — he kindly answered without any sign of aristocratic arrogance.

She was confused, his behavior was deviating from her conclusion. She defended her crumbling hypothesis with a likening to Leonardo da Vinci. His multi-faceted existence could not be juxtaposed with this genius, therefore she readjusted her hypothesis to include the second assumption that he must also be deceptive. He would laugh at her when she used juxtaposition because really she was striving to be elite and he would teach her how, just not in the way she would have ever have imagined.

That evening marked the inauguration of love. They were to grow together and apart more times then they could count but their love for each other would prevail. At the moment though this was yet an unlived storyline. She was in another relationship and he had just discovered the power of financial freedom. Their distracted minds pointed in the opposite direction, but their hearts synchronized instantaneously.

She was to discover that he was a true anomaly, but nature had another plan first. Enduring heartbreak.

They exchanged casual conversation in the hallways, and he would text her to cover for his inexcusably bad handwriting and unacceptance of learning within the boundaries of an academic institution. She would willingly oblige because she was on the path to becoming an investment banker, and he did not seem like a threat. Little did she know he was the biggest threat at that school, his three-year-old handwriting was deceiving, he was a member of Mensa, spoke five languages and knew more about finance than most of the professors at that school.

The chemistry was non-existent, but the connection was apparent. Something was brewing, but it was beyond their awareness. Days turned to weeks and despite their apparent differences, they discovered their mutual misunderstanding about the concept of time, those first months they managed to be late to almost every exam, with the exception of one. They playfully greeted each other in the halls, as they repeated their morning ritual of sprinting to classes. Still completely unaware that their hearts were secretly conditioning their minds. This routine turned into friendship overtime. She continued to be intrigued by his non-linearity and he continued to engage in her test.

Behind the surface of her smile, too short skirt and high kneed black boots was a girl who had been mentally numbed, but too afraid to admit it to herself. She was suffering, and so was he, but for different reasons. She was suffering from blindness and he suffering from awareness. Both too smart for their own good. They were both unknowingly broken.

She was holding onto her previous relationship that was breaking her heart, and inevitably the day came to fruition when her heart would endure its final blow. Her two-year relationship ended right in front of her eyes, it was her first love, and her heart still aches. She experienced complete dystopia for three months, she was unattached to reality, and the perimeter of her bed became her home and oatmeal the only food that she was able to conjure enough energy to consume. She wanted time to pass, but time was frozen in her mind. She was trapped in this nightmare, each day was followed by the next day. An endless reunion with the reality that someone she loved, would never love her back. She gave him her soul, and she knew he gave her his, but just not in the way she was mature enough to understand at the time. The decision was painful for him, but he was strong enough to set her free. He knew it was the best decision he could make for both of them.

Recovery seems far away in isolation, but as everyone told her, time heals all wounds. Unfortunately, words need to be experienced first. Her friends were her savior and soon her days became more like hours, and then eventually hours minutes until she was able to face presence.

She attended school, but her mind was elsewhere. Conversations seemed like white noise, and she was unable to stay focused long enough to catch their meaning. Numbers blurred and responsibilities were not even recognized. She was in survival mode, everything else was unimportant.

She had not seen him in a while. One day, she exchanged glances with him again at University, as always he confused her. He was bunkered behind his quite minimalistic computer, as it turns out he was in the midst of building a high-frequency options trading algorithm. She had spent the past two hours pretending to focus on nash equilibrium, two pages had been turned, and honestly, two words read. “Nash” and “Equilibrium”. He smiled at her and she managed to float a quick smirk, but her eyes must have looked completely empty.

He was wearing a cap backward this particular day, and this was her secret weakness. Guys in baseball hats that is. She gained newfound eyes for him in the moment, but the thought was fleeting. He walked over to her table, and toyed with her outfit. His eccentricity proceeded him.

“Want to go dancing with us tonight, there is this underground techno club” — he innocently asked her.

She was propelled back to life. It was a regular Thursday evening, a school night, as she used to call them. Her friend had already made plans that evening that warranted a blind date, which she had already excused herself from in her mind.

“I already have plans, but thanks for asking, maybe next time.” — she quickly responded knowing that her night would consist of cereal and Netflix.

The day continued on and their quick interaction was a thing of the past. She threw her books on the ground as she stepped inside her apartment. She started undressing and threw on her old track pants. Her friend called her and as predicted she made up a fitting excuse for why she couldn’t attend his third attempt at setting her up on a date. She sat down and sighed. Why did the world ask so much of her, she just wanted to suffer in peace.

The world was not done bothering her, her phone vibrated, and he had written… if you change your mind, we will head out around 11 pm. The funny thing is that the dialogue was still purely friendly and any sense of attraction between the two remained hidden. Both of their minds refused to see clearly, still distracted.

“I will come, meet me in the middle of the platform?” — her feelings typed before her mind could catch up with her error.

She reluctantly threw on a pair of pants, that tugged at her waist and a Parisian white coat that had previously been her mothers. She felt excitement for the first time in a while, not because she was about to meet him, but ironically because she had turned down a date with a guy to just dance freely with friends. Little did she know that the universe had just picked another date for her.

All of a sudden she was standing on the platform waiting for a night that she just wanted to be over. He jumped out of the tube as only he would, followed by three other chillers. They were all slightly buzzed from red wine and her mind was buzzed from adrenaline. He came running with open arms and a bright smile and picked her up spinning her around as if it was the only normal thing to do. He always had vibrational energy, the type of energy that can inspire a room to pursue greatness. Every person that is fortunate enough to get to know him, will mention his unconventional warmth. The other guys were just as extraordinary, they danced up the stairs of the bleak subway. It’s as if they carried the power to create another reality. They were all quite attractive and all four of them were brilliant as she learned with time.

We entered a quite dodgy bar, but they had cheap beer and as a student, that is basically the same thing as a first-class ticket to paradise. The dance floor was empty, but he was already pumping his fists in the air as if nothing could sway his state of mind. Soon he was attracting strangers to the dance floor. She would soon realize that she was the only thing that could sway his peace. He had attended two Vipassana’s and mental stability was woven into his nature. She was overwhelmed and at the same time was surprisingly having a good time.

The universe cast the roles of this play carefully, and of course one of the guys had to be an up and coming creative director and the other an intuitive genius. The girl and the boy were standing at the coat check, and they saw their opportunity. The scene enveloped, and one of the guys proposed a photo. Without hesitation, he put his arm over her shoulder, still just as friends. The creative director was not satisfied and instead proposed a kiss.

…

They saw clearly for the first time.

Up until that sentence, the thought had not crossed their minds. To their minds surprise and heart prediction, when they locked lips they experienced ecstasy. There was no turning back. They only saw each other from then on out. It was them against the world. That evening was the beginning of one of the deepest relationships the two would forge in their life. They wanted to escape the noise, only to create it. They were both extroverted introverts. Where they felt most at home daydreaming about building empires.

…

She entered his childhood room, the walls were covered in foreign currency, a timetable of the different opening times for the financial markets around the world, black and white photography, posters from Egypt, and his night table had some weird green concoction, that she would later find out was green tea. His bookshelf was just as much of a contradiction, as himself. Siddhartha was squeezed between Neurolinguistic Programming, a Peter Beard Photobook, and Rich Dad Poor Dad. He had many faces, that all melted together.

Her eyes slowly opened, and she rolled around to meet his gaze. They had spent hours talking the night before, and the puffiness under their eyes was the visible aftermath. He was head over heels already and so was she, their hearts had been calibrating all along, but nature knew that friendship was the necessary stepping stone for the love to last a lifetime. Next to her was a plate filled to the brim with mango and avocado slices. He had made her breakfast.

He smiled and handed her the plate. She knew what it meant when a guy makes you breakfast…

Everything was an adventure with him, and she was open to everything. They were both fearless. Their naivety was their wisdom. Their love of spontaneity and curiosity of life united them in what would be a whirlwind romance. Leading them to motorbike through Vietnam, skip over Hong Kong, walkthrough Cambodia, skip in New York, surf in San Diego, party in Paris, powder ski in the Alps, and chill in Copenhagen. The world was so small and their vision so big. He opened her heart and forced her to surrender. She opened his mind and forced him to think. Duality in convergence.

…

She had only been able to take off her coat when she got home that evening when he called her and asked if she wanted to go on a date the next day. She agreed. He proposed that time is too short to play games, life is already a game to be played.

He picked her up outside the subway station. He was wearing pink shoes and elephant pants, and hanging out of his side-pocket was a book. He asked if she wanted to link arms, as they did in the era of more sophisticated gentlemen, she chuckled because she understood that he was special.

Everything he did was unconventional. Everything. She loved that. He would literally sleep talk about derivatives and insurance policies. One day he came home and had the idea to only wear white clothes which he still does to this day, he would freestyle ski during the day and play the piano late at night, he refused to even consider being employed by anyone but himself, he would surprise her every time she came home with everything from floors covered with fashion sketches, to meetings with legal advisors in the Caribbean, to Skype calls with Chinese distributors.

He loved art and she did too, she just did not know it yet. He paraded down the gallery and walked out without viewing a single painting, but her. She was all he saw. He gave her every second, he was never distracted by anything else. He was present.

He told her he loved her after a week and continued every morning by waking her up and repeating “I love you, you are the best girl in the world”.

…

He was off to India, and text messages turned to essays. They were indulgent, the dopamine was vibrant, and the hit was too good to not continue. After 45 hours of travel, he still raced to find her in her apartment. He was persistent in all aspects of life, he was not afraid to risk everything and put his heart on the line. She was. He had never been broken and she had, and she was terrified.

He did everything in his power to bow down to her love, and relinquish control of her fear. He allowed her to understand herself, and it was the first time she grasped free thought. There actually existed a realm in this universe, where she did not have to pretend, where she could be herself, where everything was possible. He introduced her to spirituality and gave her the wisdom to realize she knew nothing and everything, that the complexity of this world was too hard to grasp to be convinced over anything, with the exception that employment should be avoided at all costs. But everyone needs to be convinced about something, it gives life meaning, just as long as it is not politics.

…

How do you explain enlightenment to a person, who has never seen?

He overtime managed to convert a non-believer, a realist, to the side of rationality. Realists are not rationalists they are just scared. She was really scared and he was the comfort she needed. Seeing for the first time is really really hard. It knocked her to the ground, over and over again, it led her on a journey of meaning and meaninglessness. Dressed in gold and undressed in gray all at the same time. She replaced a mask with a crown. She felt like she was on top of the world, but below her was nothingness. She no longer had a foundation to feel proud of because the long journey up the mountain had been an illusion all along. She was crowned Sisyphus, climbing into an abyss leading her only to the beginning. Her foundation had been the sleeping, the unaware. The rock rolled back down the mountain, she felt lost. Freedom was the greatest myth life had gifted her. She could do anything.

He had already climbed this mountain, and he was the Prince who had come to save her from the pressure of realizing she was the ruler of her own kingdom.

…

He calmed his mind with knowledge. She calmed her feelings by pretending not to care. She had never felt fully. He had felt everything.

They were inseparable, he was always by her side, and she by his. Nothing was too big or hard because they had each other and that was all that mattered. They still are on each other side, always.

He never gave up on her. Through sickness. Through pain. Through growth. He was still standing at the door, holding flowers. She was the angel he had promoted to heaven, and he was her god. She cherished him. They waxed and waned into sunsets and sunrises. Not once, did their eyes get distracted by another religion. They were so devoted to their own.

They were in their own evangelic bubble, but like most bubbles, they burst.

…

They continued to grow just at a distance. Life does not get in the way of love. Love is way more powerful than life itself, it persists against all odds when true. Life does not grind it down, it only strengthens it. Love is so multi-dimensional and has a mind of its own, therefore confining it to a single union is senseless, it is not love. He understood this, she did not until she met him. Love is life.

The first fight they had was also their last, just with switched perspective. She mentioned to him that her life was about seeking opportunities, and he proposed that real opportunities are always created. She believed deeply in prioritizing opportunity and not love, and he saw it as the biggest scam contrived by the human race. Ironically enough, he ended up pursuing an opportunity with his company, over love. She ended up pursuing love over opportunity. Its as if they had converted each other to the world they had originally entrusted. He would never give up on her, and she would never give up on him, but she did give up on their relationship.

Tears were shed into the river of life that morning, but the river diverged and continued to flow. Life goes on, and so does limitless love.

How could a boy and a girl, so in love lose sight? They had so many plans, so many dreams.

Luckily, life does not just abruptly end, until death. Transitions are actually constant, not volatile. Things do not end they vibrate, and some energies are aligned in 1-second others in 10 years. It's one of those unexplainable notions in life. He was in love and so was she, but the river of life transitioned and so did they. What is logical about that?

Everything. They had not lost sight. They had experienced the metamorphosis of love together and therefore it would last forever.

…

Words are indescribable and so is love, the perfect rendition of a love story, where the text is just a symbolic artifact, in the great realm of unexplainable feeling. Here is an attempt at uniting the tangible with the intangible, an imperfect rendition of a gift, a story that is now permanently tattoed in history.

Thank you for reintroducing me to myself and showing me true love. If everyone was as open-minded, loving, visionary, compassionate and reflective as you I think it would be a somewhat disorganized, but amazingly vibrant world.