All this time, the universe was biding its time until we were ready, and then it brought us together. We had so many missed connections - I almost set up his office, we frequented the same restaurants and coffee spots, and bars... after so many missed meetings, the world used its last resort to bring us together. Even a last-minute wardrobe malfunction or a whiskey bar randomly closed for a special event could not deter our time to finally find each other. Scarlet Lane, a neighborhood pub selling thrilling specials and craft beers, our preferred bar top spot (because let's be honest we're in our 30's and after a life of good music perhaps played too loud, we'd never hear each other across a table), and a charcuterie board where we both agreed that blue cheese was awful, started it all. The conversation flowed easily, and even when the bar closed, we continued, not wanting the night to end. Through a hazy room, we continued talking so effortlessly like we'd known each other our whole lives. The first week was a rally of dates and late-night conversations. He was kind and a good listener, she was friendly and good at conversation. The second date came just two days later, a night of laughter, sipping noodles and strange cocktails, a surprise birthday cake, then an adventure in the park, followed by a night of film and arts. This was a good life, we both agreed. Just three years later, under the cover of the trees, he would propose, even as the world went dark, we felt nothing but love and warmth in the company of each other.