On an autumn evening coming back from the supermarket, we were hustled in the crowd to get on a train. I stepped on first but then the doors were suddenly closed. He missed the train, he missed me. From that moment, I realize we were not in the same train, he was meant to step on the next and i was meant to continue my trip and walk home alone. The universe sometimes wants to send us some messages that we just pretend not to know. It's a bitter irony in a way that everything related to America wasn't meant for me, just like my American dream turn out to be France in the end.