Dan and I met in 2009 on the second night of freshman year. School hadn’t really begun yet, but we were living in the dorms already. I remember meeting Dan for the first time. He lived across the hall from me, and upon meeting him, I said to myself: Dan has an earring, so we probably won’t be friends. That same night, he decided to join me in going to a party with some sophomores that I had met previously as a prospective student. Little did I know that we would become fast friends, the best of friends. It was only the first week of school, but I dreamt that I would kiss his roommate (which happened that same week), and I would marry Dan. From the moment we met, we ate meals together in the dining hall, stayed up talking for hours late into the night in the common lounge of our dorm, and spent time with our group of friends on our floor (McClellan Third Floor). One day as we left the dining hall, Dan asked me out on a date, jokingly, or so I thought, and I laughed it off. Our friends would tease us that we “liked” each other, but we denied it. We were just friends. By the end of our freshman year, I realized my feelings for Dan were impossible to ignore. On the last night before summer break, I mustered up the courage to confess how I felt, only to have Dan not respond. Looking back, I’m surprised that 18-year-old me was so easygoing and carefree, as our friendship resumed as normal until the undeniable need to address what had been left unsaid resurfaced our sophomore year. This time, Dan revealed: It was obvious that I liked you from the first moment I met you. We started dating in January 2011, and since then, our relationship has carried us through the rest of college, our first full-time jobs, graduate school, moving in together, the pandemic, to getting engaged, getting married within 6 months of engagement, to now. I’ve known Dan my entire adult life, and he is my best friend and the love of my life. I can’t wait to marry him again for the third time, joined by our family and friends!

Our story began more than 16 years ago on the second night of freshman year at Skidmore. I first noticed Catherine standing outside in a pair of brightly colored, dorky running shorts that she still owns today (even though the elastic has long since worn out). I liked her immediately but didn’t have the confidence to let her know. We lived across the hall from each other and quickly became best friends, spending countless late nights talking and laughing in the dorm lounge. My feelings for her grew with each moment we spent together. After winter break sophomore year, I finally worked up the courage to ask her to be my girlfriend. The rest of college was filled with growing up together, including studying abroad on opposite sides of the world, learning how to share space, and Catherine’s foray into both gluten-free and vegan diets. After graduation, we backpacked through Spain and France before embarking on a whopping six years of long-distance, me in New York and DC, and her in DC and Atlanta (we somehow managed to just miss each other in DC). While the distance was hard, our relationship kept growing right alongside our love for each other. Catherine dreamed of moving to California, while I was convinced I would end up back in New York City. When the best job I was offered was in California, I moved west with two suitcases, and Catherine followed a few months later. After all those years, we were finally living together, something that felt long overdue and exactly right. Life in California has been an adventure, filled with exploring the West Coast and traveling together, mostly me dragging Catherine back to Hawaii over and over again. Our first road trip in 2020 was to Joshua Tree, where we both fell in love with the desert. We returned in early 2025 for our anniversary and I nervously carried the ring with me all day secretly searching for the right moment and spot. I ultimately went with a tried-and-true, if slightly cliché, sunset proposal. I knew an uncrowded spot where you could climb some rocks and watch the sun set over the desert, behind the mountains. Unfortunately, there were some people up on a cliff behind us who could clearly see us. Before the sun disappeared, I quickly convinced her to scramble down the rocks to a more private spot. I climbed down first, and once we reached the bottom, I ducked out of sight, wrestled the ring free, and, with my heart beating out of my chest, hurried back. After helping her down the last few rocks, I proposed. Later that year, we had our first wedding at the Santa Clara Courthouse, where we legally tied the knot. Not long after, we hosted our second wedding, a small backyard ceremony with our immediate families. Now, we’re thrilled to finally celebrate our marriage properly with all of you at our third (and very much final, but no guarantees) wedding this July.