Are our lives guided by fate, or shaped by chance?

1,713 miles once separated us, yet with every passing second, we were unknowingly moving closer to one another.

Our story could begin 14 years ago… but to spare you the novel, we’ll start with the shorter version—seven years ago.

It began with a simple text.

I was updating his contacts when he came across Lizbeth’s name. What were the odds she still had the same number? And what were the odds she would even reply?

I didn’t have to wait long. In less than five minutes, Lizbeth responded—and in that instant, it felt as though time folded in on itself. We were inseparable. Conversation came effortlessly, as if the years between us had quietly disappeared.

What started as a message turned into long phone calls. Those calls became a love that grew slowly—and then all at once—into something we couldn’t imagine living without.

Our story was written in small, ordinary moments.

In dinners where I would patiently wait for Lizbeth to return from washing her hands once the plates were served—because she always needed a picture of the food first (and phones, of course, carry germs).

In movie nights where the endings left us with more questions than answers, but we watched anyway—because we loved diving into video essay breakdowns afterward.

In long nights spent sitting in the car, talking about everything and nothing, promising “just five more minutes,” which always meant another hour.

Those same five minutes made us miss our dinner reservation the night we got engaged. Instead, we celebrated with street tacos—which somehow felt more like us than anything else ever could.

So were we brought together by fate? Or was it simply chance?

Maybe it was both. Maybe it was every second, every mile, every small decision that led us back to each other.

All we know is this: no matter the reason, we’re grateful our paths crossed again… and that this time, we get forever.

And this time, we promise not to miss the dinner reservation.

Our Story