A girl with freckles
used to get on the bus two stops before I had to get off. I would watch her across the aisle, trying to decide if she was shy or lonesome or foreign
. Once, I stayed on the bus as my stop slid past. I gave her two daisies. This is how I met your mother.
We were jogging in the park. I was looking down and she was looking up. I came round a corner and all I saw was a swirl of yellow hair before I knocked her down. She bruised her knee. This is how we met.
After the accident, I was groggy for a long time, trapped in myself. There was a thin dark nurse who passed in and out of my fogged vision like a calm spectre. When I cried out in my sleep, she was there with cool hands.
She handled my divorce.
She bought my crappy Jeep.
She taught me to waltz.
This is how we met.
She taught me to hula-hoop in the third grade.
She was watching me and I didn’t know it.
This is how I met your mother.