First you spotted me in the cafe. Sitting near the door, scarf wrapped around my neck, cardigan pulled tight, to shield me from the winter wind that blew in with every sound of the door chime. I looked up hoping for a warmer table, only to see you laugh- there wasn’t another seat in the house. My options were nil. You invited me to share a seat at your table- no strings attached. You would leave me to my reading, you said.

But you didn’t leave me to my reading. Peppering me with questions, giving glances to my movements, seemingly captivated with my existence.

Next thing I knew you were catching up to me on the sidewalk. We were running into eachother in the produce aisle laughing at the serendipitous pattern developing. Had our paths always crossed this often, somehow unnoticed? You seemed to think it impossible. You said that you couldn’t have missed someone like me. I would smile, deep down knowing I probably had missed a lot of things with a heart crippled by self protection, just beginning to heal.

But I skeptically allowed you to trail after me. Not letting you know just how much I lived for those moments you would appear. I found myself stepping out of my building with a simultaneous scan of the crowded street, wondering if I’d catch your smile. You said that you knew I liked having you around. I would shake my head and wonder how much more cavalier I could pretend to be without you losing interest.

Soon we discovered our buildings were side by side. Same turn of the century architect, identical buildings. Just a different address. Which helped shed light on why we frequented all the same places. An architect yourself, you gave me all the fascinating insider details over a cup of coffee one afternoon.

A couple weeks later my phone rang, you asked me to meet you outside. There was a pause on my end. I looked around my flat, hoping to locate an excuse. Why is that my initial reaction? Why not say just yes when all I do is think of you? You were beginning to pick up on that isolation tendency. “Don’t say no”, you said. “Meet me.” So I agreed.

Grabbing my coat and scarf, I paused briefly in front of the mirror. I brushed my chestnut bangs from my face. Ran my fingertips under my eyes, stuck my hands in my pockets hoping to find some color for my lips. There it was. I paused. Who am I doing this for? “Me” I lied.

Lipstick applied, I headed to the elevator. It opened in the lobby and there you were, in my building visiting with the doorman. I smiled to myself as I watched you laugh at something he had said. You never meet a stranger. Your eyes met mine across the lobby. I watched you disconnect from your conversation and become completely enraptured with my passage across the marble floor. I felt heat rise to my cheeks with embarrassment and excitement. I was terrified and anticipatory. My heart said no and my soul said yes.

You took my gloved hand for a moment, said goodbye to the doorman, calling him by name, and your hand guided my lower back to the busy sidewalk before us. You had never touched me like this. Although I could feel myself stiffen against the unexpected intimacy , I longed for the closeness. I think I longed for the closeness with you.

You couldn’t wait to show something to me, you said. You had just made a discovery that fascinated you with every beat of your architect- heart.

Snow had just began to fall and the quiet it brings fell with it as you led me down the alley between our buildings. I had never made it this far down this alley. Come to think of it, I had never been stupid enough to venture down any alley in a city like this. But here I was, my hand in yours, and in this moment I rested completely in whatever lie ahead with you.

We maneuvered past an area where the path was cluttered with dumpsters, and air conditioning units, the smell of garbage wafting through the air. And then there was a fence. “This is where it gets a little shady, you laughed. I watched, to my amazement and horror as you perfectly picked the lock. If I didn’t know what you paid in rent, I mIght be slightly suspicious of your questionable skill set.

You asked me to close my eyes. As I protested you came up behind me put your gloved hands over my eyes and said “for once, just go with it, okay? This is going to be great.” I sighed, smarted off, pretending to begrudge the moment but inside I was trembling in excitement to share a secret with you.

I noticed the way your hand felt over my face. Your other hand grasped my arm gently, just below my right shoulder guiding me, several steps ahead. I could feel the snowfall picking up, melting on my lips, dampening my hair.

You counted down from five, building the anticipation, and then your hand moved to my left arm, holding me steadily on either side. “Open your eyes.” I did, and there before us was a bridge, somehow hidden in this alley, in a city crammed with with people, every square inch of this island tediously purposed. And yet this bridge had survived the over-development. It’s gentle arch, connecting your building to mine, windows giving a peek into this glorious little mystery. How had we missed it all along?

And for once, without hesitation, without my self-sabotaging tendencies calling the shots, I turned around into your arms and kissed you.

It was a sweet, full of knowing, full of feeling known and seen for the first time in a very long time. I pulled back and looked up into your eyes, you smiled down at me as your hand traveled to my chestnut bangs, pushing them to the side “Want to figure out how to cross the bridge?”