My Turquoise Bag

“Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.”

Emery Allen

They say that life is a sum of all your choices. I believe that sometimes, choice and destiny cross each other, and a new story begins at that intersection.

That fateful crossing happened to me on the day that this picture was taken.

This is more than a picture – this is a still frame of time when I unknowingly already met my husband.

This was taken on the night my 29th birthday in Liberty Village. It was a Friday. Earlier that day, the plan was to head home after work and meet my friends to ring in the last year of my Twenties.

But on that day, I had to work one hour later than usual. When I eventually left the office, I waited for my usual bus at my usual stop, but on that particular evening, the bus was delayed.

Eager to get home, I decided to walk to the subway station.

During my walk up Ossington Avenue, I periodically looked back to see if there was a bus approaching. When I reached Churchill Avenue, I spotted the red and white stripe of a TTC bus a block away.

“Should I catch the bus, or, should I continue walking since I’m close to the subway station?”, I contemplated with myself.

I decided to catch the bus.

Given it was a Friday evening past rush hour, the bus was fairly empty – but I did notice a face I had seen before.

“Huh”, I thought. “That guy is on the bus”.

I would see him often on the morning and evening commute. I’ve taken this commute for half a year now, but I started noticing him only two months prior.

Just like thousands of other city commuters I’d see on this shared route, we would sometimes stand next to each other in a crowded bus. We’d exchange glances of acknowledgment here and there, but for the most part, we’d look down at our phones or books, with headphones in ears and hands occupied with scrolling or turning a page.

On any given day, we would have been on this bus an hour earlier and we would have been regular passengers on a regular route.

But that day was different.

We both ended our work day at unusual times, I did not catch the bus at the usual spot, and yet we both ended up on the same bus.

The intersection of choice and destiny had been crossed.

I had started dating again earlier that spring and summer through online apps, but with no success of meeting anyone interesting. Later that summer, I joined Meet Up groups of shared interests like trivia and game nights. Nothing came out of that either, but I suppose the practice of meeting new people, and my discernment, was a muscle that was still active.

For no other reason than me feeling bold about the last birthday of my Twenties, and knowing I had nothing to lose, I decided to say hi to him. 

He was a little caught off guard. He took out his headphones, and I repeated my “hi” so that he can hear it again.

He said hi back, reluctantly.

“I see you often on this bus. Do you also work in Liberty Village?”, I asked him.

We exchanged small talk. I asked for his name, and I offered him mine.

He was reciprocative, but I could tell he was a little reserved, probably wondering why a random stranger on a bus was sparking a conversation with him.

He did notice I was holding a cupcake in my hand and he curiously asked about it. I told him my colleagues had given it to me because it was my birthday. He wished me a happy birthday.

When we arrived at Ossington subway station, we awkwardly said bye and we parted ways towards our subway lines that were heading in the opposite directions.

As my evening went on, I never thought about that encounter again.

Dressed in a yellow dress, coral sandals and pink lipstick, I headed back to Liberty Village to meet my friends at our reserved table.

They showered me with cheer, love, and words of wisdom as I celebrated the last year of my Twenties with them.

There was a heavy storm that night, which stretched our night longer and made our table even cozier. Candles were blown on a cake they surprised me with, and wine continued to pour. Eventually, as closing time neared, the skies cleared out and the celebration concluded.

I remember feeling so good that evening. I was internally full on the inside.

I had come back from a bucket list trip to Turkey earlier that year.

I made a big career switch I was happy with.

I started a new hobby.

I was was feeling healed from the previous year’s heartbreak.

I was free, having fun, making money, travelling and being surrounded by people who loved and uplifted me.

As I left the restaurant with a feeling of gratitude in my heart, I asked for a quick picture to be taken under the industrial lights of the old factory building. As I swayed my yellow dress, this moment was captured.

This picture concluded that day.

On Monday morning, I was on the platform waiting for the bus at Ossington station, just like every other Monday.

He was there, and this time, he walked over to me and asked how my birthday weekend went.

And that is how I met my husband.

New people I meet are amazed at this story, and friends who have heard it before enjoy hearing it again. I know that the appeal is because it sounds like a story out of a movie, or that it’s a uniquely old school way of meeting someone in a world of online dating, or because people in Toronto notoriously don’t talk to strangers, especially not on public transit.

But I think it’s deeper than that.

To me, I think people’s reaction of amazement, joy and triumph is proof that people want to be reminded that life, and love, can work out.

And it does. Particularly, when we are not expecting it.

With an open heart, an open mind and a little bit of faith in the stars, we truly never know when or how we will cross paths with someone who was meant to enter our lives.

Every birthday, I tell my husband that he is the best birthday gift I have ever received.

Saying “hi” to him was the best decision I ever made, on a day that the universe conspired for us to be on the same bus.

I’ve often imagined going back in time to my younger self who was heartbroken, confused and felt cast aside. I want to tell her, “Hey, don’t worry. It gets so much better”.

May this story warm your heart, give you hope and courage, and console a tender heart.

xo 🤍