The First Time I: Pulled an All-Nighter on an Overnight Bus

This is The First Time, a column where Zach either 1) writes about the first time he did something specific in his life and talks about any pop culture connections surrounding it, or 2) tries something for the first time ever in 2025 and writes about it—sees a new movie, eats a new food, etc. etc. etc.

Once upon a time

I met the love of my life

She was on an overnight bus in Panama

Just like me. 

We were in Bocas del Toro

On our way back to Panama City

And then out of the country altogether

Me to the first day of the rest of my working life in the United States

Grad school over

My sojourn from Martha's Vineyard to Moab to Breckenridge to Panama coming to a close

And her to Bogota for one last adventure

Before settling back in Germany

In Magdeburg.

We weren't supposed to sit together.

Her seat was a few rows in front of mine

But there was a ruckus

I don't know the story

But she agreed to trade places with someone.

She was pretty but I didn't think much of it.

Then we started talking.

I don't remember when it started to feel magical.

Perhaps it was in the first few minutes.

Perhaps it was at two in the morning

When it became clear that neither of us would be going to sleep that night.

Our conversation flowed like water

We created our own inside jokes from nothing

Laughing so hard our insides hurt.

We tried to whisper but we were loud

The people nearby glared at us in between their little naps.

We called one of them Che Guevara for some reason

And laughed again.

I didn't want the night to end.

I felt us approaching Panama City

The sadness started to creep up.

When I got off the bus, I told her I wanted to stay in touch

I asked for her full name

We became Facebook friends.

During the ride she had told me about a Happiness Book she was writing.

She had asked fellow travelers along the way what made them happy

And was compiling the answers together.

I wrote her a message that day.

"Happiness is peace of mind, being completely sure you can take on anything the world has to offer."

"Happiness is feeling totally exhausted, both in body and mind, and sore, and at the end of a major effort, and alive."

"Happiness is jumping into a pile of leaves and feeling like a child."

And then:

"Happiness is being tired, just ready to get through a long bus ride with angry yelling door banging women and a misguided Che Guevara so that you can get home quickly, and then, completely by chance, sitting next to someone who you feel like you experience a deep connection with. It was a great time staying up until 2 AM and beyond, totally unexpected and really, really nice. You're a really special person, and it's easy to tell that soon after meeting you. I would take those angry looks from other passengers any day if it means hanging out with someone like you."

She responded three days later.

"In the end ive been to the [panama] canal because the other girls wanted to go.and guess whom ive seen there: our che!! but nobody else could understand what that meant..thanks for not forgetting about my happiness book! your definitions are one of my favourites and not only because of the last part about meeting me. i made it to my friends house, the girls could come too, we had a great time! now im finally having my lazy day in bogota. im really happy that you were sitting next to me on that bus!"

She wrote me unprompted a few months later to tell me she had printed out my happiness definition.

"Let's see if we are ever sitting on the same bus again," she wrote. "It would be a pleasure for sure!"

We exchanged a few more messages over the years

I wrote her again at the beginning of the pandemic.

She told me she had moved to Dresden with her boyfriend.

I didn't write back that time.

I'm not sure why.

It's not like I ever really thought we'd be together.

But somewhere deep down I still hoped there could be a dream come true.

It took me three years to write back

And when I did it was because I had a layover in Munich

I asked her if she had any tips for exploring the city.

"If you are in Munich on September 10, even better!" I wrote.

She didn't write me back that time.

Now it's been almost ten years 

Sometimes I find myself dreaming of that late night bus ride with the love of my life.

But she is in Dresden

With her different life

And the fates have kept us apart

Just the same.