Not many people preferred assigned seating in grade school, but I suppose if it seats you beside the love of your life, then it isn't so bad. That year, spent beside one another in Mr. Johnson's English Language Arts class, among the worlds of Wordly Wise and whirligigs, we began to know one another for the first time. Who's to say what we spoke about those days, but we do know that the conversation and the giggling never stopped. We became dear friends that year, and if you could go back in time and ask thirteen going on fourteen Briannah who she was going to marry, Ben Marklin would be among her answers ("along with Niall Horan, Harry Styles, and the rest of One Direction" - Ben).

I didn't, and he was the last person I expected to run into outside the chorus room doors that first day of sophomore year. I still remember the peace and joy I felt knowing there would be a familiar face, a friend just as nervous as I, right beside me as we entered the room of upperclassmen full of talent. Seeing him still gives me those feelings. That year, Ben and I became best friends, and even as he hit on not one, but TWO of my best friends at MY sixteenth birthday party (the audacity), even going on to date one for a decent portion of the school year, I knew that longterm, he was mine. (This was an opinion that did ultimately make it back to both our families, all who I'm sure shrugged off the thought as the childish crush it appeared as. Jokes on them.) The upperclassmen in our chorus class appeared to know it as well, as we spent that year hearing every reason for why we belonged together.

As we entered junior year, Briannah and I spent every minute of the day together that we could. As if having almost every class of the day together wasn't enough, we stayed together every day after school too. Every Friday we went to dinner at Bojangles (our booth was always the same) and stood beside one another in the Davie Crazies at the football games after. I drove her home, always. On the other days of the week, we just sat in the car in Briannah's parking spot in the old high school parking lot, talking for hours until it was time to go home for dinner. This is a closeness we have never lost; she is my best friend. I always knew I was interested in Briannah, but I hadn't realized I had fallen in love with her until the jealousy set in when I saw her date other guys. I thought I was too deep in the friend zone by then, but as I turned into a knight in shining armor that year for the annual Madrigal dinner, turns out it wasn't the princess trying to gain my attention, but the bard instead (If you can't guess that bard was Briannah). On closing night, I took her and Addie back to Addie's house, and while Addie quickly went inside, Briannah and I stayed to look at the stars through the sunroof of Grammie's Lexus, talking, like always. When it was time for her to go, we hugged goodbye, and then she kissed me (or "I kissed her").

When we first found out we would be attending colleges in separate cities, we were obviously terrified and unsure of everything. It's not too often that two seventeen-year-olds profess their love and dreams of marriage to one another and among the already strenuous years of later teens and early twenties with their demands for change, growth, and heartache, do long distance, and make it. But we made it; we're making it. For all of those things that got us here in the first place: the conversation and giggling, the peace and joy, the closeness, the friendship; we made it. We traveled every weekend. We called every night. We mastered watching the same movie in two separate locations, perfecting the pause and playing for time aligning, the muting of one end of facetime to avoid echoing. We drove our roommates crazy. We cried a lot, but we laughed more. We shared secrets and wishes. Our friendship evolved into a partnership. We grew up together, from children into adults. When we talk now about our upcoming marriage, we share deeply the thrill of excitement felt by those celebrating around us for this next step in our path. We look forward to the changes we'll make, the growing up we'll continue to do. We relish in the thought of challenges and opportunities, of careers and travel, of children and learning. Change is so often as terrifying and unsure as it felt when we were eighteen, but when we reflect on these past five years together, and then we look ahead to this lifetime of marriage ahead, we recognize what we did, what we accomplished together, already, and the ways joy overshadows any of the hard memories with the fond ones, and then we see change and its invitations for our development, together, and we celebrate.

The morning of April 2nd, 2021, Briannah woke up to plans for her perfect day: brunch and all-day shopping with her mom and dinner with Ben. On their outing, Briannah spontaneously found two dresses for 'bridal things,' bought in anticipation of what might be the coming months (one of which you find on this site). After a joy-filled day of catching up and laughter, Ben arrived to pick her up (typical), and Briannah made a remark about how he was wearing her favorite shirt. She remembers being confused when she asked what was for dinner and Ben told her his mom was making chicken, since Julie Marklin does not cook on Fridays. Briannah also recalls her mom seeming a little too excited and Ben a little too tense. As they were driving towards his parent's house, Briannah remarked that Ben's car smelled disgusting, which he quickly brushed off. When he turned on his turn signal at the intersection of the old Davie County High School, Briannah immediately began crying, knowing there was nothing to do on that road except what was about to happen. They pulled into the parking lot, into that old spot where they used to spend their afternoons, and Ben produced Bojangles from the back seat (the smell), asking Briannah to eat with him. Unfortunately for him, she couldn't stop crying, so he moved on, pulling out the ring instead, one just like the one she drew as a little girl dreaming of her marriage one day. Briannah, from her uncontrollable sobs, cannot recall a word Ben said in his speech. She does remember her joyful shock when she found out he devised this plan on his own, as this was exactly how she would have done it too, given their history with cars: From their first trip out post licenses, to those afternoons and Friday nights, to their first kiss, to officially becoming boyfriend and girlfriend, to those weekend commutes, to this trip back into Davie County, to this proposal, and to the path back out into their lives, the coming marriage, growing up together.