About three hours ago, in the Stop & Shop parking lot. I was loading the groceries into the trunk of my mom's Kia Sorento. We made eye contact right before the huge bag of kitty litter I was holding ripped open and got in my eyes. Remember? You smiled at me, or at least I think you did. I was wearing khaki shorts, a white shirt, and a baseball cap. And you were… The Void.

The Primeval Ocean of Cosmic Existence, the Yawning Chasm of Eternal Nothingness, the World Navel, the Inexhaustible-Darkness-Whence-All-Things Must-Return.

You were wearing pink sunglasses too, if I recall correctly.

If you're reading this, I just want to say how sorry I am that I didn't go and talk to you. I totally blew it. Not to sound creepy or anything, but I've had a crush on you for so long! Ever since I started smoking pot and listening to Pink Floyd, actually.

One time in community college, before I flunked out and started selling stolen Wi-Fi routers, I took a class called Secular and the Sacred, and that's when I realized you, the Void, were the love of my life.

I really respect you. Your infinite, non-physical, transcendental non-duality is so inspirational. You have such style, such swagger, such incomprehensible, thought-transcending emptiness. And those green jogger sweatpants you were wearing were so sexy! They really accentuated your formlessness.

I'll be honest with you, I've had relationships in the past. There was the time I was obsessed with the Abyss. It happened exactly like Nietzsche said it would: I gazed into the Abyss and the Abyss gazed back into me. Then I got chlamydia.

Still, no matter what, I had you in the back of my mind. Just like the movie When Harry Met Sally. Except in this case, “Sally” is you, the Void, a metaphysical archetype of unfathomable profundities relating to the essence of Absolute Being.

Oh, Void. You don't know how much I love you. Even if I tried to tell you how much I love you, I couldn't. Because you surpass the very limits of language. Seriously Void, you're so freaking hot, I used to think about you when I meditated.

Pondering the depths of your bottomless being always drove me bonkers. I would give anything to cross your threshold and have a dark night of the soul with you. Can't you see what I'm trying to say? Only you, the Void, can give me the intrinsic psychological transfiguration I crave.

We'd be perfect for each other. Not to mention you've hung out with some of the coolest celebrities in history: Buddha, Jesus, Rumi, Miley Cyrus that one time she smoked salvia.

So what do you say? How about we meet up and have a couple of drinks? Does Wednesday work for you? I have court-ordered community service until 4:45, but anytime after that works for me.