Nearly one year ago, I approached a lone woman sitting at a table in the restaurant where I work as a waiter. She was waiting for a few friends to join her, and I offered to bring her some water. There was a profound, quiet beauty to this woman that shook me. I felt something far beyond a mere physical attraction to her - I felt some kind of energy radiating from her that might be best described as a pure, quiet, dignified grace.

She was understated, humble, and elegant in our brief interaction, which I walked away from in a state of dizzying euphoria. It is a rare thing for me to feel so moved by a woman’s presence.

What was perhaps even more noteworthy than my instant, full-on infatuation with this attractive stranger, however, was my awareness that everything I was feeling seemed suspicious. Maybe all those months of isolation and introspection had given rise to a new self-awareness, because although I’d felt this kind of reaction in response to women before, I’d never noticed how terrible it felt.