We were both dating (several) other people, but we were at that age when the boundary between friendship and romance isn’t set in stone. He had a smokey voice and liquid eyes, and was wildly passionate about political causes I’d never considered. I’d developed an intense friendship earlier that year with a guy I’d met. As a first-generation Chinese immigrant who had grown up in poverty, I knew I was beyond fortunate. This was all I’d ever wanted, I told myself. ![]() It was long past midnight and the darkness beyond the small circle of light cast by my single lamp seemed immense. ![]() I rubbed my eyes as I scribbled equations on a notepad. My bedroom was sparsely furnished – unlike that of my neighbour, who had not only hired movers but likely an interior decorator as well for hers – but it was all mine. ![]() Late one night in the 1980s, I was tackling a gnarly physics problem in my dorm room at Harvard.
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