Arriving early to a Thursday night screening at the Revue, I find my place in the middle section, middle of the aisle. Sitting in the velvety chair, I unbundle myself. Scarf, jacket, and pants still wet from my walk over. Having volunteered for this theatre, I know that they need the sales from the concession stand. So, I allow myself some concession. My fingers gleam with butter as they rifle through the purple and orange cardboard box of popcorn. Behind me, an awkward date is commencing. He self-identifies as a cinephile, and begins to tell her facts about the film's release, and why people think it is important. She offers him a few muffled sounds to suggest that she is listening. Having only recently understood going to the movie theatre as a solo pleasure, eavesdropping on this conversation affirms my position. In my solitude with my fellow cinephiles, I immersed myself in the situations before me. I did not realize at the time, but this visit inaugurated what became my own search for love in and through the cinema.