It was a birthday party. He was wearing a blond Afro wig and cutoff jean shorts, she was wearing a sequin skirt and American flag kitten tank top. He bounded up the stairs carrying his bike, and she noticed him right away. A few laps around the roller skating rink, and she found herself flat on her tush, disco music blaring around her. He cruised up, offered to help her with some tips, and she bashfully accepted. He said he played hockey, knows his way around a pair of skates. He led her around the rink by her hand, weaving in and out of the crowd, her hair blowing behind her. They talked about music, family, life, their passions, and spent the rest of the night by each others' side. The deep, immediate connection, the smiles on their faces, the feeling in their bellies. It felt special and important. A few days later, at an Irish pub next to a Burmese restaurant, a Brazilian woman predicted their future. She took one look at them, asked them whether it was their first date, and said "you two are going to get married". And here we are, 8 years later, making that vision a reality.