So I read to her:
[Sometimes I wonder if fate is a friend, then I remember what brought 'we' to 'us' was him.]
We are an intangible dictionary of metaphors only you and I know the definitions to because they came with time. They came with chance. Our strings of fate seemed to be tied with our own hands until ours crossed and began to form a rope. Our rope. All of this....ropes....strings....fate.... chance. They are all metaphors and strings within themselves that lead back to us because we have made them together. Or at least we shall. We shall weave together all that we need to know of each other, with each other, in time, because time.....lead us to each other.

She looked into my face and I suddenly saw how our cats cradle of chance created this moment. I told her of this. How every random decision. My choice to move to NY, my happenstance to be at that party with a girl I knew from home who I've never seen. Her choice to move from chile, her choice to invite people over even though she didn't know who and even after denying me a date when I met her. Despite all of it. In spite of all of it.

We sat together.

Our first real date. And I knew. I will know. Our fates lie weaving together till they are tight like waxed twine.

I told her of this as well. She says she has many questions about all of it and that with me it is like entering the mouth of a wolf. I like that. I tell her we have our whole lives together or we don't.

She says she needs to think on it for a while for her head is full of mischief and Chilean relatives and of worries. And yes. Some day I will marry her.