206 results found in Personals, Illinois

You were reading a dog-eared Murakami novel, headphones in, looking up just long enough to catch my smile between stops at Belmont and Fullerton. I wanted to ask about your book, but lost my nerve when the train filled up. If you remember the shy guy in the navy coat, let's finish the conversation we never had.

We high-fived after that wild 7th inning, spilled some nachos, and argued about best ballpark snacks. Your Cubs hat had a vintage pin—if you see this, I’d love to share another game (and maybe less messy nachos) with you.

The wind turned my umbrella inside out, and you offered yours as we both darted into the Tribune lobby, laughing at the Chicago weather. I still remember your infectious laugh and kind eyes—wishing I'd asked to buy you coffee after the rain.

You were reading a dog-eared Murakami novel, headphones in, looking up just long enough to catch my smile between stops at Belmont and Fullerton. I wanted to ask about your book, but lost my nerve when the train filled up. If you remember the shy guy in the navy coat, let's finish the conversation we never had.

You were wearing a bright red scarf on the Brown Line Wednesday morning, reading a mystery novel. We traded smiles between stops, but I froze and didn’t say hi. Coffee sometime?

You were wearing a bright red scarf on the Brown Line Wednesday morning, reading a mystery novel. We traded smiles between stops, but I froze and didn’t say hi. Coffee sometime?

You were wearing a bright red scarf on the Brown Line Wednesday morning, reading a mystery novel. We traded smiles between stops, but I froze and didn’t say hi. Coffee sometime?

You were wearing a bright red scarf on the Brown Line Wednesday morning, reading a mystery novel. We traded smiles between stops, but I froze and didn’t say hi. Coffee sometime?

You were wearing a bright red scarf on the Brown Line Wednesday morning, reading a mystery novel. We traded smiles between stops, but I froze and didn’t say hi. Coffee sometime?

You were wearing a bright red scarf on the Brown Line Wednesday morning, reading a mystery novel. We traded smiles between stops, but I froze and didn’t say hi. Coffee sometime?

We kept making awkward eye contact between stops as the train rumbled from Belmont to downtown. You smiled when my umbrella nearly poked you—was that fate or just bad coordination? If you remember the Beatles sticker on my laptop, maybe we’re meant to catch the next train together.

We kept making awkward eye contact between stops as the train rumbled from Belmont to downtown. You smiled when my umbrella nearly poked you—was that fate or just bad coordination? If you remember the Beatles sticker on my laptop, maybe we’re meant to catch the next train together.