So I matched with this guy Jake on a dating app in March 2023. His profile said he was into "urban exploration" which I thought meant like... walking around cool neighborhoods? We texted for about two weeks - lots of memes, terrible puns, the usual. He seemed normal enough, worked in IT, had a golden retriever named Pancake.

Our first date was supposed to be coffee at this trendy place downtown on a Saturday afternoon. I get there and he's wearing a wetsuit under his jacket. I'm like "?????" and he goes "slight change of plans - trust me?" Red flag? Maybe. But something about his genuine excitement made me curious.

Turns out his friend who runs kayak tours had a last-minute cancellation and offered us free spots. Mind you, I'd never kayaked in my LIFE and here I am in my cute first-date outfit (RIP my suede boots). He'd brought an extra wetsuit "just in case" - apparently he does this "spontaneous adventure thing" often enough to keep spare gear in his truck.

Fast forward 45 minutes and I'm squeezed into a borrowed wetsuit that's way too long, trying not to fall into the harbor while he's teaching me basic paddle strokes. We're supposed to do this sunset tour around the old lighthouse but 20 minutes in, my kayak flips. I'm in the water, mortified, mascara probably everywhere, and this dude just starts laughing so hard he tips HIS kayak over on purpose to make me feel better.

The tour guide is losing it, we're both soaking wet, treading water, and Jake pulls out a WATERPROOF DISPOSABLE CAMERA from his life vest and goes "first date selfie?" That photo is still on our fridge - two idiots in bright orange life vests, hair plastered to our heads, biggest grins ever.

We had to paddle back early cuz we were both freezing. The coffee shop wouldn't let us in (fair), so we ended up at this sketchy 24-hour diner, still damp, sharing pancakes at 7pm. The waitress thought we were insane. He drew me a certificate on a napkin that said "Survived World's Weirdest First Date" with a little sketch of two upside-down kayaks.

I thought that would be it - fun story, never see him again. But he texted the next day with a photo of Pancake wearing a tiny life vest asking if I wanted to try "land-based activities" next time.

Three months later we were planning a camping trip. Six months in, I moved in (Pancake approved). Last month, exactly one year after the kayak disaster, he proposed at the same harbor. This time I stayed dry, but he actually did fall in the water trying to kneel on the dock. The ring was in a waterproof box though - he learned his lesson.

The tour guide from our first date is officiating our wedding next spring. We're having it indoors.

August 2022. First day at my new job at this boutique marketing firm. I'm setting up my desk when this guy Marcus walks over and goes "You're in my spot." I show him the desk assignment email. He literally calls HR right there in front of me to "verify there hasn't been a mistake." Turns out they'd promised him the window desk for TWO YEARS and gave it to me. Great start.

For the next three months, this man was my personal nightmare. He'd "reply all" to my emails with tiny corrections. Once I misspelled "occurrence" and he sent me a Grammarly subscription as a "welcome gift." I put his fancy coffee mug in the dishwasher (apparently it was HAND WASH ONLY and from Italy??). He reported me to facilities for eating carrots too loudly during a Zoom call.

The peak of our feud was "Sourdough Gate." I started bringing in homemade bread every Friday for the office. Everyone loved it. Marcus? He started bringing in bread from this expensive bakery every THURSDAY to one-up me. Then I switched to Thursdays. He went to Wednesdays. By October we were both bringing baked goods DAILY and our coworkers were begging us to stop. The kitchen looked like a carb explosion.

Then November hits. We get assigned to the Peterson holiday campaign - just us two. Four weeks. Nightmare squared. First meeting, he slides a box across the table: "Peace offering. We need to work together." It's a $30 artisan bread knife. I'm suspicious but whatever.

We're pulling stupid late nights on this campaign. One night around 2am, delirious on Red Bull, he admits the bread war was "actually kind of fun" and that my rosemary focaccia was better than anything from his fancy bakery. I tell him his criticism genuinely made my presentations better (ugh, it was true).

December 1st, we're practicing the final pitch and I completely blank. Full panic. Marcus just smoothly takes over my section, makes me look good, saves the whole thing. Client loves it. We get the contract. Everyone's celebrating and he pulls me aside: "You had my back with that technical question I couldn't answer. We make a decent team." My brain just short-circuits and I kiss him. Right there. By the stupid coffee machine that started everything.

He immediately goes "HR is going to have a field day with this" and I'm mortified, but then he adds "worth it though" and kisses me back.

We tried to keep it quiet but our coworker Jenny figured it out in literally two days because we "stopped trying to murder each other" and Marcus brought me coffee without me asking. The entire office had apparently been placing bets on when we'd either date or physically fight. Jenny won $240.

We've been together almost two years now. We still compete about EVERYTHING - whose apartment to move into (his, bigger kitchen), who makes better pasta (me), who Wordle's faster (him, unfortunately). Last week he proposed during our monthly bread-baking competition. He hid the ring in a bread roll. I almost ate it.

Our wedding cake? We're making it ourselves. Two different flavors, obviously. Guests can vote for their favorite.

(He still has that window desk though. Some battles you just don't win.)

Met Ryan in 2016 at my roommate's 21st birthday party. I was a junior in college, he'd just dropped out to "figure things out." We had this intense two-month whatever-you-call-it. He'd show up at my dorm at 2am with takeout and philosophy books, talking about maybe becoming a teacher, or a pilot, or moving to Japan. One week he was apartment hunting, the next he was couch surfing. I was pre-law, color-coded planners, five-year plan type. When he texted me from a road trip to Portland that he "might stay for a while," I just... stopped responding. Couldn't do the chaos.

Fast forward to September 2019. Our mutual friend Chelsea's wedding in Boston. I'm a first-year associate at a law firm, killer dress, feeling good. Ryan's there - cleaned up, actual career (software development), tells me about his apartment, his 401k, the works. We dance to like six songs straight. He learned to ACTUALLY dance, not just the awkward swaying thing. The chemistry is insane. He asks if I want to get coffee that Sunday before I fly back to NYC.

Saturday night I panic. This gorgeous bridesmaid is clearly into him, they're laughing at the bar, and suddenly I'm 21 again wondering which version of Ryan I'd get. I text him some BS excuse about an early flight and leave. He messages me on Instagram a few weeks later, I take three days to reply, then ghost again when he asks to visit NYC. Real mature, I know.

2020, I take a job in Seattle. The firm transfers me, fresh start, etc. Date a perfectly nice tax attorney for eight months. Then a photographer who was "finding himself" (apparently my type is consistent). Nothing sticks.

November 2023. Back home for Thanksgiving. My mom guilt-trips me into getting milk at 9pm on Black Friday. I'm in the grocery store in my high school sweatpants, no makeup, arguing with my mom on the phone about pie ratios. Turn the corner and literally ram my cart into Ryan's. He's buying three different types of ice cream and a single banana. We both just freeze.

"Your mom still doing the thing where she makes four pies for six people?" he asks. I'm floored he remembers.

We abandon our carts and sit in his car in the parking lot talking until 1am. He tells me about his startup failing during COVID, starting over, therapy (he actually went to THERAPY). I tell him about Seattle, how I hate corporate law but don't know what else to do. It's different - we're not trying to impress each other anymore.

He messages the next morning: "I know we're really good at terrible timing, but want to get actual coffee? In daylight? Like adults?"

We spent the entire weekend together. Not the intense, desperate energy from college or the trying-too-hard from the wedding. Just... easy. He helped my dad fix the garage door. I taught his nephew how to play chess. His mom still had a photo of us from 2016 on her fridge which was mortifying but also kind of sweet?

When I flew back to Seattle, he asked if we could try long-distance. "I know you hate uncertainty, so here's the plan: I'll visit December 15th, you come here for New Year's, we reassess every month. Spreadsheet optional but welcomed." He made fun of my planning thing but also... got it?

Eight months of flights. SO many flights. June 2024, he got a remote position and moved to Seattle. Didn't even discuss it really, just started looking for apartments near mine one day. Found one four blocks away with a better kitchen because he knows I stress-bake.

Last month, we're at another wedding (Chelsea's sister). During the couple's first dance, he whispers "I'm glad you ghosted me at Chelsea's wedding" and I'm ready to fight but he goes "we weren't ready then. I would've messed it up. I needed to become someone worth your color-coded planner."

He proposed two weeks later. Not at a wedding, thank god. Just Saturday morning, both of us on his couch in pajamas, doing the crossword. He'd hidden the ring in the newspaper (nerd). Said he'd actually bought it before moving to Seattle but wanted to wait until it felt like "random Tuesday" perfect, not "big moment" perfect.

The wedding's in July. We're having it right between Boston and Seattle so everyone has to travel equally (I made a spreadsheet comparing flight costs). Ryan's in charge of ice cream bar. I'm doing everything else. Some things never change.