Almost six years ago, a skinny, four-eyed theatre kid had a crush on a wise-cracking, top-of-her-class, state-qualifying athlete. That summer was life-changing. It was the July after our freshman year of high school when we each took a leap of faith to go to a Christian summer camp in the middle of sweltering Oklahoma. For us, that was the beginning. I was never much of an extrovert. Meila, to her credit, was just as much of an extrovert as I was. Her family still laughs about her following her dad around as a kid, doing everything she could to spend time with him, mimicking everything. As for me, I spent most of my time drawing. To do so, I usually sought a quiet place isolated from others so I could focus on the paper in front of me. I thought for a long time about what it would be like to get married. By spending so much time imagining images I could draw, I often considered the future life I would lead. I drew superheroes frequently. To me, they were the epitome of truth, justice, and the ideal life. They were exactly what I wanted for myself--I wanted to live my life helping people. By the time summer rolled around after our freshman year of high school, I stepped away from that vision for myself. At some point helping people lost its glamour. I was reluctant to go to camp that summer because it seemed I was serving other people's interests. I nearly went to my parents to beg them not to force me to go. They likely would have listened to me. But for some reason or another, I felt it necessary to go. Parallel to my decision whether to go to camp was my crush on this amazing girl, Meila. She was a cross-country runner and a mid-distance athlete in track & field. I shared several classes with Meila freshman Spring. We had been friends up until then but hit it off that semester. I passed geometry thanks to her, and we got in trouble for talking too much during an Italian WWII movie more than once. We also shared a gym class. She knew me as the guy who hit her in the head with a basketball...twice. At the time, I was not sure if Meila was going to camp. I only found out when we saw each other in the early morning preparing to pile into the pair of passenger vans our youth leaders were driving to camp. We rode next to each other for the ten-and-a-half-hour drive, arguing about the size of trucks and about what constituted a lake compared to a pond. At some point, we arrived tired and delirious. Camp that year was transformative in many ways, most of which are impossible to express in so few words. It was also incredibly hot. Most days temperatures were in the high 90s. Meila and I found solace under a large tree that covered a grassy area that kept the ground cool. Under unscrupulous amounts of forced outdoor free time, she and I spent a lot of time beneath that tree. On Thursday of that week, we found ourselves under that tree longer than before. There was a lot for us to discuss following a night of shared testimonies and tears. But that day was different. As we were talking, a vibrant, ruby-red ladybug clambered onto my fingertip and traveled up my knuckle. My hand lingered close to Meila's and my heart skipped a beat for a moment. This was my chance, I thought, to tell her how I felt. On that day, July 19, 2018, I was scared to death. But God did something in me that day that I did not expect. He gave me courage. I told Meila how I felt. Her hair shimmered in the Oklahoma sun. Meila looked up at me with chocolate eyes and smiled; she guided the ladybug onto her hand and moved her palm over mine. Five years later, she said yes to the rest of our lives. When I pictured what getting married would look like, I never pictured the journey I took to get here. I am blessed and grateful that it turned out far better than I ever imagined. Meila and I have grown up together, stronger and more faithful due to God's work in our lives through one another. Now, I get to spend my life with the most amazing woman I have ever met.