I realized that we were destined for each other one evening, as you sat across me, in a restaurant. You stretched your hand to the table, and started tapping it with the tips of your fingers:
Tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap tap tap.
And I, looking on, listening, suddenly recognized the pattern:
“Is that… that IS the Fibonacci sequence, isn’t it?”
You didn’t respond verbally. Instead, with the sweetest smile on your face, you tapped out the next number in the sequence:
Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.
I was taken in. Enchanted. Your smile was still glowing on your face. And as I looked at your eyes, I saw your pupils dilate, ever so slightly. And I stretched forth my arm, and cupped yours in mine, and continued gazing at your hypnotizing eyes. And for the longest of moments, the entire world came to a halt around us. Background sounds faded into silence. The lighting in the restaurant softened and merged into one omnipresent illumination. There was nothing else in the world, at that moment, except our gazes at each other.
We couldn’t deny it: Cupid had struck that night.
And now, years later, whenever I see Fibonacci patterns anywhere, I always pause, and reminiscence. For as it happened, we enjoyed many nights and days of blissful companionship, after that day in that restaurant. Days filled with sunlight and laughter. Nights filled with heart-melting intimacy and wines and idyllic sessions by the fireside. We’d both gaze at the flames, and see them leaping and dancing and cackling, and we’d see a million brilliant possibilities for our future together. But providence had other plans, and we eventually drifted apart, and eventually lost contact of each other.
Still, I live in a world of Fibonacci patterns. Nautilus shells. Fuchsia and lily flower petals. Coneflower seed heads. Pine cones. The mating patterns of bees. In all these, the Fibonacci sequence dominate. The sequence determines the very curves of life. And I, whenever I see these patterns, I remember you. And I wish you well, wherever you are.