I love love stories. Stories about how people met their significant others.
Okay, I love stories and people and love but the combination of the three, with a really good love story, actually makes my fingertips tingle.
Here's a good one I heard recently.
A couple met for the first time aged 10, on a church camp. Then, completely coincidentally, again aged 13, another church camp.
Both times they really hit it off, first as buddies, then as giggly self-conscious tweens.
After that they didn't see each other for a decade.
She went to university, fell pregnant and moved to another city to live with her parents and face life as a single mum.
He learnt a trade, married young, had a child and then a nasty divorce.
Completely by chance, when her baby was 8 months old, she and her parents visited a mission station in a remote part of the country. They stayed with the couple running the mission and she, by looking at the family photos on the walls, realised they were her camp buddy's parents. They all had a good laugh.
A few days after she got home she emailed them some photos she'd taken while staying there. He emailed her back.
8 months later they married. He adopted her baby and a few years later they had one of their own.
Such intertwining of coincidence and circumstance can only be fate right? And although not a believer myself I can absolutely understand how they see the hand of God in their story, working to bring them together.
Fate or God clearly they were meant to be. And that's totally romantic enough for me.