In the summer of 2020, I (Aeslyn—though I go by “Aes”) was swiping through profiles in the midst of the pandemic when Tyler’s hazel eyes—warm, curious, and impossible to ignore—landed a perfect first strike on my heart. His opening message was witty and genuine, and I found myself looking forward to every notification. Our late-night chats soon revealed shared passions: from Mass Effect adventures and alt-rock soundtracks to our mutual love of anime. When I mentioned that Trafalgar D. Law from One Piece was my favorite character, Tyler didn’t just ask questions—he dove into the episodes himself so we could really talk about the story together. That simple choice to learn what I loved spoke volumes. Just as we were planning our first date, disaster struck: mid-text (“I’m free Thursday night, and…”) my phone hit the pavement and the screen shattered. With no way to explain, I went silent for weeks until it was finally repaired. Nervous but hopeful, I messaged him: “Hey Tyler—so sorry for disappearing. My phone broke, and it just got fixed today. I promise I didn’t ghost you!” To my relief, he replied right away, and that very week we set a date. We met at a theater to see X-Men: Mutants. Both of us were shy—so instead of a classic hand-hold, we laughed over gentle “elbow brushes” during the previews. Those little touches felt perfectly “us.” I’d tease that he’d need to “upgrade to the girlfriend plan” for more than friendship. I hated the idea of unclear labels. When somebody asked what we were, I wanted to give a clear answer. A few weeks later—on my birthday at exactly 2:19 AM— with a warm smile, Tyler asked: “I want to upgrade, Aeslyn, will you be my girlfriend?” And just like that, our swipe-born connection became something official. Quest complete: I found my Player Two.