Have you ever felt that click?

I took a deep breath.

"So... Miranda... say, did you sit next to me deliberately earlier in the day? I mean, on purpose?"

She gave me a mischievous look, her large eyes scanning mine. "Yes I did. I found you interesting-looking. I saw this Black American guy sitting on the opposite end of the table with his shirt off and thought, hmm... he looks pretty nice." She looked at the table shyly, like there was some sort of conflict in her eyes. A tugging of the angel and the devil on both her shoulders. Then I knew. There was something off this island that was calling her. I knew what that meant.

I sighed. "Okay Miranda. Someone as cute as you has to have a man. Where is he?

She looked at me. "He's in England."

My heart sank like a stone, hitting the bottom of my feet with a huge crash. I knew it. This couldn't be all true for me.

She added, "He's a good boy, he's actually been waiting for me for a year and a half to come back."

I laughed. "A year and a half?! You mean to tell me, that there's a guy out there that's had the celibacy to wait for a woman for a year and half? You have to pardon me but I'm really cynical about that."

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying. He's never cheated on me."

"On c'mon, we gotta be realistic here. I mean, have you two remained in contact at all? You told me that the atoll you were on was pretty remote."

"We spoke every once in a while, even through phonecalls occasionally. We met up in Australia as well, back in November of 2001."

"Hmph. And YOU'VE never cheated on him?"

She gave me a look that answered my question. But instead of saying yes or no, she said, "There was a kid in my English class, who deliberately wanted to be taught English by me. He actually lied on his application to take English, and was even given permission by the elders to take English lessons from me. I taught only up to a certain age, that was 16. He was 21. Later on I found out that he deliberately took those lessons so he could have sex with me."

"And how did you find out?"

"He told me."

I cracked up. "He told you?! And what did you do, did you have sex with him?"

She laughed, not answering the question.

"I guess I could take that as a yes?"

"No, I didn't."

Somehow I just didn't believe that... I mean cooped up on an island atoll for a year and a half? Nobody didn't have to tell me that things would happen there that would stay only on the island. But I let it go. I really didn't care anyhow.

So one thing ended up leading to another. We kissed a few times. But eventually the feelings tearing at her caused her to get up and walk away from me. I felt heartbroken. She used the excuse of being tired to leave. I'd heard that one before. That's a standard escape line.

But I was still a little confused. Maybe I was wrong? Maybe she didn't feel the way I did? I started to feel guilty. I sat there at the table alone, head in my hands, thinking that perhaps I'd crossed a line I shouldn't have. Oh well, I already did. I decided that perhaps it would be good that I just kept away from her. No need to torture her with my presence. So I left her alone. I felt bad though. I had some very strong feelings for this woman. Feelings that I hadn't felt in quite a long time. Geez, was I in love or something? Maybe. But I needed to know how she felt about me, straight up.

For the next two days I kept clear of her. Occasionally when the situation was unavoidable (since Beachcomber Island was so small), we would small talk, but nothing serious. I tried to hide whatever disappointment I had. But I couldn't help but think about her every few minutes. I tried to dump those thoughts by trying to make myself believe that she couldn't had cared less about me. It didn't work.

New Years came and went with Miranda and I keeping it cordial. But it all came to a head the night before she left, January First of 2002. It was in the evening, the dance area in front of the stage was empty. I just had to get this out into the open. I mean, you only live once.

"You know Miranda, I really don't know if you like me or not. But I wanted to tell you, that I think you are the most fascinating woman I've ever met on my travels thus far. You're such an attractive woman to me. I really wanted to tell you that. I mean, I don't know how you feel about me, maybe you think I'm a jerk or something. I deliberately kept away from you for fear of suffocating you with my presence. I just didn't know how you really felt about me. But I thought you were amazing the minute I laid eyes on you. And liked you even more when I got to know you better."

She smiled, staring into my eyes. It made my stomach tickle. "Mo, I feel exactly the same about you. You are the most interesting bloke I've met here. Everyone else was really kinda boring, but you... you are quite different from anyone else I've met.

"It's okay that you did what you did," she added. "You didn't have to keep away from me though, I wouldn't had hurt you. But I must say you're quite a fascinating man."

Okay, so I'll be to first to admit that those words made my heart flutter! I was very satisfied to hear them. I gently held her shoulders with my hands, caressing them. "You know Miranda... somehow I get the feeling that... if we met in Kiribati... things would've turned out quite differently. For the both of us, I imagine. It's a shame that we didn't meet there."

Her eyes burned directly into the back of mine. "Yes Mo, likewise."

So she did feel the way I did. And then I had a sudden urge to write something down for her.

I pointed to the bench. "Here, sit down in front of me. I want to tell you something."

I broke off a piece of the coaster sitting on it, and wrote a sentence down for her. I passed it under the table. She took it.

It read, "You are a beautiful woman." When she read it she was all smiles!

The following day we said our goodbyes. We exchanged email addresses, and she said that she would eventually want to come to New York and visit. I wanted to give her some sort of farewell speech about how excited I was to meet her but in the end mumbled a bunch of incoherent dribble. We kissed and hugged each other tightly; and I guess I would be lying if I said I didn't want to let go?

I, and the other people she knew, walked her to the small ferry, beached right up on the shore. She was one of the last to get on, the ferry packed to the rafters with departing backpackers. As she stepped on it, I had a real sinking feeling; something that said I would probably never see this woman again. I started to become increasingly sad as the ferry she was on brought her to the waiting motorized catamaran, that was to take her to Nadi.

"You know what's the saddest thing about backpacking?" I said to one of the Kiwis next to me.

After he asked me what it was, I told him. "That you get to meet some really wonderful people. Yet you know you'll never see them again."

After the catamaran started its motors, I ran up to the sundeck of the two-story bar on Beachcombers to watch it head off into the horizon. I sadly waved goodbye as the people on the boat did the same. I hoped Miranda was one of them.

And I haven't seen her since.

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