It’s Valentine’s Day, and honestly? I wasn’t going to say anything. But some stories are too ‘written in the stars’ to keep to myself. Here’s a piece of my heart from a December I’ll never forget.
I thought Hội An would be my chapter of solitude. I told myself this was the moment-the chance to wander alone, to lose myself in lantern-lit alleys, to taste freedom in bowls of cao lầu, to let the city etch its story onto me…
But fate, always craving a little drama, had other plans!
He appeared, someone I hadn’t seen in years, suddenly there by the river, smiling like the universe had been saving this twist just for me. I laughed, caught between disbelief and the feeling that I’d stumbled into the kind of coincidence you only find in novels!
“You??” I blurted, half-laughing.
“Yes, me!” he grinned.
We drifted through the old town together, weaving past bicycles, sharing sesame rice crackers from street stalls. He teased me for still being hopeless at bargaining, and I teased him for always getting lost, even with a map in hand. When music spilled out from a café, I couldn’t resist reminding him of his infamous dancing skills. He rolled his eyes, I laughed, and it felt like no time had passed at all…like Hội An had pressed pause on my solo adventure and whispered, “Try this instead!”
Christmas lanterns shimmered above us, the air buzzing with the restless energy of a year about to end. Fireworks cracked open the sky, Taylor Swift’s music played, just as the crowd clapped in rhythm. An old couple danced, babies bounced in their parents’ arms, and I…. I felt that happy ache, the longing to live every cliché, every tender scene.
And then, as if fate wanted one more flourish, an old English man stopped us in the street. With a twinkle in his eye, he told us to try a restaurant nearby. It was so random, so unexpected, but we followed his advice. That’s how we ended up on a balcony, watching the town light up beneath us, lanterns glowing, streets humming, the river shimmering like it was holding all our secrets.
I hadn’t planned the boat ride, but he coaxed me into it. We left our drinks half-finished, ran down to the river, and climbed into a small wooden boat. The guide, seeing it was late, let us drift longer than usual. We bought paper lanterns, set them afloat on the river, and made silent wishes we didn’t dare speak aloud! The season itself seemed to conspire with us, an ending transforming into a beginning, a reunion wrapped in holiday magic.
I realized then that while people slip away, they sometimes have a way of finding their way back when the timing is finally right. And when they do, nobody can hold you better than each other. Friendship, laughter, even our mismatched music choices-it all stitched together into something that felt like home, even in a foreign land.
What a way to begin again. A December night turning into a New Year, a reunion born of chance and fate, carrying hope, second chances, and the kind of magic that makes you believe in love all over again.
Life offered us a hand exactly when we were ready to take it. And maybe, just maybe, this time we’ll write the rest of the journey together…