Our first segment of Barnumbia Modern Love is the cutest elevator meet-cute. Submit your story to our series here!

One day during NSOP, I walked into Brooks, expecting to go up to my dorm and do who knows what. I entered the elevator heading to the sixth floor, followed by two girls who were going to the fourth. As soon as the door closed, one of them asked me, “Do you have a deck of cards?”

“Um…” I responded, thinking. I realized I did have a deck of cards, but that I was feeling lazy and didn’t really want to lend them to anybody in that moment, let alone a stranger. “Yes, I do!” I found myself responding, unable to say no when I knew I could be of great help.

“Great! We wanted to play cards, do you want to come play with us?”

“Sure!” I responded. I headed up to my dorm to retrieve my cards and went down to the fourth floor to meet the two elevator strangers in their Reid double.

Ever since that moment, I’ve been good friends with those two elevator girls. The three of us have so much in common; we’ve had many a good laugh and conversation together. I can’t imagine my life in college without them being a part of it.

As I found myself getting closer to these girls, I began to develop a wistful sadness. I had met two wonderful friends by chance in an elevator, two people who happened to share similar interests as myself. How about all those other strangers on campus? What if the person I pass in the hallway or the person I sit next to in the dining hall could become my best friend in an alternate universe? Aren’t I giving up these opportunities?

This existential longing overwhelmed me. I loved Barnard! I wanted to be friends with everyone! I wanted to talk to everyone! Why couldn’t we all become good friends?

Because that’s unreasonable, that’s why. You can’t go down every path of the butterfly effect just because it attracts you. There are thousands, maybe millions, of people in the world you could be close friends with. What’s better—trying to become friends with all of them, or devoting more of your time to the dozen or so people who already really matter to you? Yes, you can mourn for the joy of friendship the future refuses to grant you. But why not celebrate the friendships gifted to you by the past? Being sad for the loss of a friend we never made does nothing productive; it brings us no joy. Let us be grateful for the friends we have, the chance meetings we’ve experienced, and the remarkable opportunities we’ve encountered. We must make the most of our time here.

– Emma Burris

Meet Cute via Tal Bloom