A cover of I Will Survive is playing on Jesse's laptop. We are in the lounge on our floor of the dorm. I came here to do math homework away from the distractions in my room.
It's my freshman year of college. I'm distraught. I can't remember whether there's a precipitating incident on the day this story takes place—I can think of several possibilities, but don't feel sure about any particular one—or if my feelings on that day were just part of the general malaise. Let's just say I have a protracted and unproductive crush on Jesse's roommate, and have failed to act on it. This is further complicated by my own roommate having similar feelings, but acting on them. The greatest complication, however, is that outside of one month where we hung out often, the object of this crush does not appear to like me very much at all.
The song is comforting. The song is melancholy. I remember sitting in the setting sunlight thinking that this would be an end. Life would change. It would be sad to think about, but the only way was forward. Did Jesse know any of this?
But it turns out, it wasn't a turning point at all.