It’s been six years since I started dating Lisa. Last month, I asked her to marry me, and in one year we are flying back to Chicago to get hitched.
Before we started dating, we met a few years prior and immediately started hanging out. We were both seeing other people at the time, and met through mutual circles, but we instantly clicked and started making plans to hang out. Our first mutual love was beer. She worked as a scientist a few blocks away where I was a code jockey for a research lab. In between our two offices was the perfect little bar that we would use to weekly stress-test our livers. We talked about everything, politics, friends, science, sex, significant others, sex, friends, sex, beer, sex … it’s probably time to go home. This dance went on for far too long before I finally sacked up one day and told her how I felt: I fucking loved the bejesus out of her. Of course, I did this drunk with a successful lunge kiss and after six complicated months of our initial relationship, I moved into her apartment. Life is awesome.