i've written of this so many times

from so many angles

because it mattered so much to me, to us

it was the day after thanksgiving

our first date

we drove into the coastal range

found a quiet road to walk

came to a bouldered creek

a wooden bridge

it began to drizzle, we didn't know each other well

we began to talk

we talked and talked

until the rain forced us to move

we drove without direction amid the evergreens 

the deepest, dankest green

by chance finding a cafe where we had coffee by a fire

sensed something was happening

and it was not yet noon

we have not been apart since that day

it seems a miracle and random and lucky and unlikely

and tenuous, full of what ifs

the act of writing about it i liken to pinching myself

we went back, years later

couldn't find the bridge, couldn't find the cafe