I was twenty-two, nursing a lukewarm coffee in a crowded basement venue, when I first saw Kimberlee. She was laughing at a joke I hadn’t heard, her energy cutting through the noise of the band, and I knew I had to say something. I struck up a conversation about the scratched vinyl she was holding—a nervous gamble that turned into a three-hour walk through the city streets. By the time the sun began to peek over the skyline, we weren't just strangers anymore; we were two people who had realized the world felt a little more vibrant when we were standing next to each other. The decade that followed has been a beautiful blur of shared apartments, burnt dinners, and the slow, steady work of growing up together. We navigated our chaotic twenties and settled into the grounded reality of our thirties, weathering job changes, cross-country moves, and everything in between. Through every high and low, Kimberlee became my constant—the person who knows exactly how I take my tea and how to quiet my deepest anxieties. We didn’t just fall in love; we built a life out of inside jokes and a million tiny, daily choices to stay. Now, ten years to the day after that first concert, I’m finally getting to call her my wife. Looking back, it doesn’t feel like we are just starting a chapter, but rather celebrating the incredible journey that has already made us a family. We’ve spent a decade learning how to be "us," and I couldn't be more ready for the next fifty. We are so grateful to have you all there to help us kick off the rest of our lives.