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We met halfway across the world, then again at home. Plot twist: same state, same city, different continents

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So about 9 years ago, I’m in Vietnam on vacation, sweating my life away, pretending to be “finding myself” when I was really just aggressively Googling “best pho near me.” I’m in some small shop grabbing a drink, and I end up having a tiny conversation with this girl. Nothing crazy, just small talk about how we both clearly don’t belong in the 110° humidity and how neither of us really knew what we were doing.

She was funny, chill, and cute in a very “cool traveler who actually packed sunscreen” way. We talked for a few minutes and then went our separate ways. Didn’t exchange contacts, didn’t even catch names. Just one of those “passing ships” moments.

But here’s where it gets weird.

Months later, I’m back in Boston, walking through the Public Garden, minding my own business, when I swear I see the same girl sitting on a bench reading. I do the world’s most awkward double take, and she looks up and does that “wait… do I know you?” squint.

We ended up talking again. Turns out she was the girl from Vietnam. And the kicker? We were both living in Massachusetts the whole time. Separate vacations. Random meet-cute on the other side of the world. Then we bump into each other at a park we both rarely go to.

It felt scripted. Like the universe went, “Okay, round two, don’t mess this up.”

This time we exchanged numbers. We got coffee. Then dinner. Then more of everything.

Fast forward 9 years: we’re still together, now experts at spotting each other before crossing continents.

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