Ten years ago tonight, I had my first date.
I was 40.
It’s not that I hadn’t been on other dates in my life. It’s just that, from the very first moment we took each other’s hands, none of the others seemed to matter anymore — Because nothing compared to this one.
The best one.
The last one I’ll ever want.
Both of us were recently divorced after long, unhappy marriages. We both had two children at home. And both of us had joined a dating website a month earlier within a few days of each other. Fate, it seemed, had already set things into motion.
10 years and one pair of wedding rings later, I’m still thanking fate each and every day.
But especially for this night, when the amazing woman I now call my wife was able to overlook the fact that her date drove a mini van.
Here’s how it all started…
[Insert gauzy time-travel sequence and harp music here]