My girlfriend (now wife) and I were dating for a couple of months and my mother decided to drag out the shoebox of family photos to show her.
As we rummaged through them, my girlfriend holds one up and says, “Why do you have a photo of me?”
It was a photo of me, around age 6–7, at a carnival, posing in front of a F4 Phantom fighter plane. Standing next to me, looking off to the side, was a little girl, who was my girlfriend.
It’s not a huge stretch that we’d both be at that carnival, as we lived a couple miles away from each other — but we never went to school together and did not share any friends. And yet, my father captures her in this snapshot of me, some ten years before we met, and she happens to pull it out of this pile of photos.