remember that gorgeous canadian religious guy that i met at the hostel in paris clear back during my fall break? the one that i sat around with for hours discussing theology with and then wandered around the louvre with? yea, kelly was pretty freaking amazing.

so on my third day in rome JJ and i met up with his lovely friend paulina and visited the vatican and i could not have been more excited. first up, st. peter’s basilica! as we walked through all the gates and lines outside the building a guy caught my eye. out of my peripheral vision i could have sworn that i saw kelly, the amazing canadian. but surely that couldn’t be right!? i mean, back in paris we had been talking about his upcoming trip to rome and how i was traveling there after my semester, but there was no way that in a city of over 5 million people i would happen to run into him.

i kept glancing back trying to keep my excitement to a minimum as i debated if it really was him. after like seven “casual” glances over my shoulder i decided to just say “fuck it” and walk over. as i got closer the thoughts in my head went crazy with excitement. IT WAS HIM!! his face broke into a grin and i pretty much threw myself at him and gave him a huge freaking hug and basically never wanted to let go. ever.

he asked how i was and what all i had been up to since paris and i reciprocated with the same questions. as we stood around chatting i realized just how much i had missed him in the few months since i had met him in paris. we talked for 5 or 10 minutes, me grinning like an idiot and gazing longingly at his whole sexy-lumberjack-traveler-man look that he had going on, and as the time dragged on i never wanted to leave. totally corny, i know, but the look in his eyes is hypnotizing.

eventually though i remembered that i had sorta just abandoned JJ and paulina in my haste to see kelly, so i reluctantly said my goodbyes and headed back over to them to go into the church. nope, i didn’t get his info and i still don’t have any way to contact him, nor do i even really know where he’s from, but i almost prefer it this way. i mean, what are the chances that i would ever see him again after paris!? it was an amazing random act of fate that renewed my sense of hope in the world and my sense of faith in my own life. i feel like if he and i would actually get in touch it would ruin the magic of the whole “random european religious connection” thing that we have going on.

it’s weird to think that as i sit here writing this he’s out there somewhere in the very same city as me, and yet i’ll probably never see him again. and if i do, i’ll probably just propose on the spot and never let him go because it’s obviously the will of god and completely and totally meant to be. obviously.