“Who is that?” I ask my roommate. We’re in our apartment. We’re hosting a party. We stand on the dark color rug which we loathe for how ugly it is but appreciate for how it conceals spilled drinks and strands of hair. Six girls in an apartment produce a lot of hair. I flick my eyes over to a man on the other side of the apartment. “He has a girlfriend” she says. “Oh.” I couldn’t even pinpoint what about him attracted me; there was no one attribute that caught my eye, but I couldn’t deny the feeling that there…