Back in October of 2008, I was 28 and I was in love.

I had known her my entire life, but I didn't realize how I felt until after she moved away from Ontario, Canada, where we live to British Columbia.

By the time I realized that she'd taken my heart with her,

it was too late. Now, 12 years later, thanks to Facebook, we had reconnected and she was coming home

for a visit. I felt like I'd waited a lifetime for that day to come. I'll never forget how

beautiful she looked when we met.

Time passed too quickly. Days turned into weeks and we spent as much time together as we could.

Before we knew it, she would be leaving in a week, and I knew I couldn't let her go again,

and to my surprise and great joy she agreed

to stay. Thanksgiving week of that year we arrived in British Columbia to get her

things and officially move her back home. We flew in after spending a few days with her friends.

We had a four-day drive back home.

Everything went well until the second day of our return trip.

We got lost.

How did I make this mistake?

I wondered as I stared out over the landscape.

We were almost out of the mountains by then, but it was getting late.

I thought maybe if I drove a bit longer we could make up some ground.

It was a thought I would soon come to regret.

Night was falling fast when I saw a sign that indicated the next town was 60 kilometers away.

Dear God, another 60 kilometers. But I'm already so tired, I thought.

Being the stubborn type, I pushed on. I can do this, I told myself, like the little engine that could.

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