We were only a few blocks from the central bus station in Zagreb, and I was already half way out of my seat, when a tearjerker of a song came across the loudspeakers in the bus. The driver jacked the sound up, too. “I knew what it was even before you said a word,” a young fellow crooned. “I let you go only because I love you so.” And then came the key line: “I don’t have to dream of you to see you!” Tears came to my eyes at once. Indeed, I could see my beloved’s eyes. I could also see her toes. “Hey,” I felt like shouting, “we are very much together!” My angry outburst did not matter one single bit, for I was still choking. “Idiot,” I continued chastising myself, “we will be together shortly!” But to no avail. Her eyes and her toes were still in front of my eyes and I had hard time breathing. Luckily, the bus came to a stop in the station and I jumped out of it as quickly as I could.