The next love of my life.  My future life partner.  Or perhaps there will be no tomorrow beloved.  (Sigh)

Yesterday I was heading to my Occupational Therapist to have her adjust my thumb splint.  The buses were out of whack because Gent’s huge street party – Gentse Feesten – starts in a few days.

There I was on a street corner with my also-confused Google Maps, trying to figure out what to do.  Either a woman asked me a question or I asked her.  I don’t remember.  Together we discovered a temporary bus stop.  We sat together.  We exchanged contact information.  And this afternoon we’re going for coffee.

I’d guess she’s 35.  Perfect for creating a new friendship.  Far too young for holding hands for the rest of my life.

In England I met another fine human being, this time in my age range.  But she’s deeply immersed in her community and her home.  Gent is not on her horizon.

I love my city.  I want to live here till I die.  Yes, I’ve seen movies where someone crosses oceans to be with the other.  But swimming the English Channel isn’t in the cards for me.  Actually I too crossed an ocean to be with my beloved … but she’s a city rather than a person.

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So, to answer my question:

Maybe … maybe not