Izzy and I are walking in the park.  She has just finished gutting the crap out of some pinecones and freshly sated from her daily dose of vegan cannibalism, we head home.

Him: Rumi?
I turn around, wondering who the hell is calling me because I never run into people I know in the park at this hour.
Me: Nic?  Wow…what are you doing here?  You’re back in Memphis?  I’m startled by his eyes, so clear and beautifully light hazel-green, playfully sparkling but staring into my soul.  Yikes, attraction just hit.  I might be in trouble.
Him: I saw Izzy and even though I haven’t seen her in years, I knew it had to be her.  And I knew where there’s an Izzy, a Rumi isn’t far away.

This little creature had been my permanent sidekick for nine years at that point.
It wasn’t lost on me that if she was enabling this reconnect, something significant might happen.

Shit.

They say it happens when you’re not looking.
I wasn’t looking.  I was gloriously single, grateful to be free of the work and energy relationships require as I was planning my next destination move.  Izzy and I were busy making plans, thinking seriously about returning to NYC.  There was no desire, space or time for boy-like crap to be happening.  But he’d just moved from Brooklyn and friends are always good to have so yeah, let’s drink some beer sometime.

But.

He pronounced my name Japanese-correctly, which hadn’t happened in years.
He knew things I didn’t.  So many things.
He was remarkably unpretentious for someone so smart.
And goofy, which makes me laugh.  And if you can make me laugh hard, my heart eases.

Then he started to like Izzy.
Damn it.

In the beginning, she irritated the crap out of him and this relieved me because as long as she annoyed him, there would be distance between us.  But little Izzy liked him back and they started to fucking hang out together and bike around town like this:

I find myself asking him to stay with her while I’m in Chicago.

And it dawns on me.

I trust him completely with her life.
Which means he possesses my heart.