Once there was a boy who lived in a loft downtown. He was rich in friendships, found meaning in his work, made art, and threw parties that ended late. The parties were great, with good food, wine, and company and the occasional band, and everyone always had a wonderful time. The boy was happy. And then, in the wee hours of the morning, when the music stopped, and the last guests left, he might have felt that something or perhaps someone was missing.

Once there was a girl who moved to the city, took a cool apartment downtown with really fun roommates, worked much much too hard at a job she really loved, forged incredible friendships and lived and ate adventurously. She traveled the world and danced through the city, stopping very often to pet every dog that passed by, and threw parties and went to parties, some of which were thrown by the boy. And yet the girl, too, felt incomplete.

And then the girl stopped coming to the boy’s parties and it was only then he realized that it was the girl that he missed.

But timing was never right. They were constantly wrapped up in entanglements and complications which, along with the lapsing of time, drew them farther apart.

Then a few years later, on a cold December night, the boy saw the girl at a party and knew. The girl, it must be said, was not as certain, but was at a minimum intrigued.

Some time passed. Then one day she realized that she knew, and that she had known for a long time.

Now, together, they get to throw a rager for their friends and family, with great food and music and dancing till the wee hours of the morning, only after which they get to start the next chapter of their lives, with everyone else in it. And they couldn’t be happier.