We met in the summer of 2021. He was a lifeguard, and I was working at the climbing wall at the University of Houston Rec Center. The rock wall was front and center in the gym, so I saw everyone—students and staff—as they came and went. And then I saw him. I think I almost immediately turned to my coworker and said, “Ooh, I want THAT one!” A week later, he finally came in to climb. We chatted a bit, and then he showed up almost every day after that. By the end of the week, he asked for my number. Over text, we clicked instantly on every level. When he took me out on our first date, we spent two hours at the restaurant because the conversation felt so natural and comfortable. We weren’t ready for the evening to end, so we went over to his friend’s place to play board games. (Talk about pressure—I had to impress not only him but all his friends on the first date!) That date was quickly followed by two or three more, involving billiards, bowling, kayaking, and cozy movie nights. After each of these dates, Will would say, “That was the best date I’ve ever had.” And they absolutely were. A few months later, we went to the Rodeo together. Afterward, we couldn’t get an Uber home, so I suggested we walk to the nearest bar, which was three miles away. Honestly, it felt a little sketchy, but with Will, I wasn’t worried at all. It turned out to be the shortest three miles of my life. When we finally reached the bar, we arrived just in time for a live band, and Will happily sang along (I think the song was "Toxic"). That night showed us how we handle unexpected situations. Sometimes, you just have to walk to a bar, grab a beer, and belt out a song before figuring out a Plan B. In just three years, we’ve shared so many memorable moments: Halloween parties, day trips to Galveston, assembling furniture, and cozy nights talking on the couch for hours. But we’ve also experienced a lot of growth together. We graduated, supported each other through lousy jobs, shoulder surgeries, and those general bad days we all have. Not a single moment in any of that has ever made us question our choice in each other. That’s part of why we took the trip to Michigan. If anything was going to reveal some strain for us to work through, surely a 40-hour road trip would do it. Twenty hours in, we reached Michigan, and that last ten-hour leg of the drive felt more like six. Then there we were, standing alone on the beach at the base of Sleeping Bear Dunes. He got down on one knee (in the rocks, too—sorry, babe) and asked me not just to “marry him,” but instead, “Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?” “Hell yeah!”