It’s finally happening!

PJ and I met during our second semester of medical school—right around the time I was surviving on equal parts caffeine and anxiety. A classmate suggested I join a tutoring group, promising they could help me make sense of physiology (my personal nemesis). And that’s where I met PJ. At first, I wasn’t exactly focused on anything other than passing my exams. But as luck would have it, PJ studied in the same building, so every now and then I’d wander into the “boys’ study area,” hoping someone—anyone—with a pulse could explain what was going on in lecture. Somewhere between diagrams, confusion, and last-minute cramming, a friendship started to form. Our routine became a mix of studying and celebrating surviving exams—usually with beach trips and dinners at Tomatoes. It was simple, easy, and fun. Then came third semester—and the day everything changed. We were heading to a standardized patient session when a classic Caribbean rainstorm rolled in. PJ had a sturdy Costco umbrella; I had the med school-issued one (which, to be fair, wasn’t bad). A friend suggested we switch umbrellas for convenience. Somehow, in the chaos, I accidentally grabbed a random neighbor’s umbrella… which turned out to be the flimsiest, most unreliable one imaginable. I made it to campus dry. PJ did not. When I came back and saw him—professional attire, completely soaked—I felt terrible. I had unknowingly left him with the worst umbrella possible. So, naturally, I offered him a standing invitation for coffee or hot chocolate anytime as an apology. He took me up on it. That coffee turned into our first time hanging out—just the two of us. And from there… the rest is history.