The first time I saw my fiancé, Adam, to whom I will be married in a matter of days, I was on the bus, on my way to work. He got on a few stops after me, engrossed in something he was reading on a handheld electronic device. Right away, I wanted to know him, and not just because he was one of the few other brown people I had seen on the route. Forgive me if this sounds New Age, but the man had good energy.

After the initial sighting, I saw him on the same bus from time to time, but — despite the fact that we got off at the same stop and even worked at the same company — he never saw me. He was always either playing with that device or talking to people he already knew (fortunate, fortunate people).

It was more than a year before I finally met him. Both of us volunteered to participate in a community-service event sponsored by our company. When he introduced himself at the first planning meeting, I told him I’d seen him on my bus many times. One of his friends, who had also volunteered for the event, chuckled.

“Adam,” he said, “maybe you should look up from that pocket PC once in awhile.”

The next time we rode the same bus (perhaps acting on the advice of his friend), Adam sat next to me. And so began my association with the most brilliant, humble, hilarious, generous, active, kind, aware, thoughtful person I have ever known.

During one of our initial conversations, I learned that Adam didn’t own a car. I had been considering giving up my own for several years, and it was his example that gave me the courage to take the plunge. Now, of course, we are partners in car-free living. Together, we have ridden the bus to black-tie benefits, and bars, and basketball games. We have ridden to almost every neighborhood in the city, as well as to distant and inconvenient suburbs. We have ridden to work and to play. We have ridden in cities around the country and the world. We have eavesdropped on innumerable conversations. We have made new friends. We have run to catch buses and walked when we missed them. We have felt the sun on our faces. We have felt many less pleasant sensations on our faces. We have told each other funny stories about our bus adventures. We have told each other funny stories during our bus adventures.

Adam is the only person who knows what I mean when I say, “I got the mean lady on the 27 today,” and the only person who truly “gets” why I ride. Yes, it’s about reducing one’s impact on the earth and advocating for change in the way we build cities and transport people.

But you know what? It’s also a heck of a lot of fun.