I met my husband in a place no one expects to meet the love of their life: a visa run. At the time, I was teaching English in Vietnam. My days were filled with lesson plans, lively classrooms, and the constant sound of motorbikes outside. I loved my life there, but I wasn’t searching for anything extraordinary. I was simply doing what many expats eventually do—getting on a bus to renew my visa. The bus to the Vietnam border was full of tired travelers, all of us slightly annoyed to be there. And then there was him. He was a yoga teacher living in Vietnam, and somehow that made perfect sense the moment we started talking. We chatted while waiting in line, sweating under the sun with our passports in hand. The conversation was easy and genuine. He asked about my students. I asked about his classes. By the time we boarded the bus home, something had shifted. What began as a shared inconvenience slowly became a shared life. Vietnam gave me more than a job—it gave me my husband.