Just earlier today, after Caroline Engelhardt and I first kissed at 5:00 in the morning on Weberstraße around the corner from her apartment at Gluckstraße 8 in the north end of Frankfurt, I fell head over heels in love with her. Yes, it was just like that. From the first time we met at the Volksbildungsheim on Eschenheimer Anlage back on 11 February 1989 at a Slawheads concert and again running into her at a Die Form show, the Swans, and Psychic TV all on various dates between then and last night, I had no interest in her, nor do I believe she had an interest in me.

Turns out that we were both at the Pixies concert at the Batschkapp last night. I found it strange that we kept running into each other at so many concerts, so I took the time to sit down with her on the stairs of the overpass for the train, and we talked until it was too late to catch a train home. I offered to give her a ride. She invited me up to her apartment, and I don’t believe she had any intentions behind the invite other than being friendly. First, I was struck by the number of books she had and then by her record collection, she let me peruse. Turns out we share a lot of common interests.

Quickly, it seemed it was closing in on 5:00 a.m., and I had to go. She offered to walk me to my car as it had taken time to find a place, and she didn’t want me to get turned around in her neighborhood. I can’t tell you why I reached out to kiss her on the cheek and how it was that we met face-to-face, but we did. It was the most gentle, delicate kiss of my life. There were no slobbering tongues, no move to making out, just a sensually soft and brief kiss that rippled the fabric of my universe. I was stunned.

I drove home (that’s another story) and was smitten all the way there. After I woke, I frantically reached out to her, and we agreed to meet that afternoon; it was a Sunday. I couldn’t tell her that I’d gone off the deep end of love with her as I couldn’t know what she was feeling, and my situation was complicated, to say the least. So, trying to give reason to meet yet again, I asked if she’d like any American things from the military shopping area, also known as the PX (Post Exchange).

This is the list that she wrote to me, and in that snail she drew, I will forever see her smile.