Planting as One, Blooming Forever

It all started online, with a spark of curiosity that quickly turned into something more. After exchanging messages, we decided to meet in person at Beacon Social in downtown Fort Myers on October 14th, 2023. What was supposed to be just one date turned into seven hours of non-stop conversation. We talked about everything, from philosophy and psychology to childhood memories, favorite quirks, and the little things that make us who we are. The hours flew by, and when the night came to an end, neither of us wanted to say goodbye. That night set the tone for what was to come. We couldn’t wait to see each other again, and it wasn’t long before we knew this was something special. On December 11th, 2023, we made it official and decided to be exclusive. Looking back, it’s easy to see that our first date was more than just a beginning; it was the start of our forever.

Our love story began, like most do now, not with a glance, but with me swiping right on a judgmental dog. The human attached to the leash was a fiery redhead whose “I prefer books to people” bio spoke directly to my own quiet, guarded soul. The algorithm, which usually paired people over tacos and sunsets, must have glitched with genius. Its notification did not say “It’s a match!” but whispered a prophecy, “Our data suggests a 63.2% chance you will not make each other worse. Proceed. Maybe.” I took the bet. The “one drink” plan was a lie we told ourselves to feel in control of a destiny that had already chosen us. Pints turned into a walk that meant “I never want to stop talking to you.” We bypassed small talk entirely, digging straight to the Earth’s core to solve all the world’s problems, though we were too busy designing the reading list for our hypothetical two-person book club to write any of it down. My pre-planned excuse for having to leave, a text about my refrigerator running, died of loneliness, forgotten in my pocket. A “spark” is too small a word. It was a supernova, a collision of two solitary planets. Our atmospheres merged into a new world, breathable only for us, and left us with a gravity that forever altered our orbits. The weeks and months that followed were a blur of constant conversation and stolen hours, yet somehow, time also seemed to expand, stretching to hold the sheer volume of joy we poured into it. It was a paradox, and I am still not convinced it was not caused by a rip in the space-time continuum directly above her ugly, beloved dog’s head. My heart, that previously impenetrable fortress of emotional unavailability, did not just have a new tenant; she had knocked down a wall, installed a skylight, and was redecorating with such alarming efficiency that I hardly recognized the place. Sunlight poured into corners that had known only dust for years. And I loved it. I loved the demolition. I loved the light. Everything that was complicated became stupidly, beautifully simple. A bad day could be utterly dismantled by a single picture from her, a candid shot of steam rising from her “soup mug,” or the dog wearing a sock as a hat. I was a man bewitched, utterly disarmed, and willingly conquered by this beautiful, terrifyingly competent creature. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the catch to reveal itself. Instead, the universe just gave me a whole new pair of shoes. Really comfortable ones, made for walking forward, together, on a path that suddenly felt like it had been waiting for our footprints all along. It did not take me long to understand the sudden unveiling, a grace that pierced me with the force of a truth. With clarity, I saw both gift and vocation; my love for her was a covenant written not by my hand, but placed upon my soul by the Author of all love. It was a recognition, profound and humbling, as if my very heart had always known its purpose in Him. This was no passing fancy of the world, but a participation in the eternal; an echo of the love that spoke the universe into being. And so, moved by that same Spirit which turns ordinary time into holy ground, on a day made radiant not by the sun, but by the sanctuary of her presence, I humbled not just before her, but before the mystery itself, and asked her to become my wife, to walk with me toward the altar, and into the divine promise of becoming one flesh. Gosh, how profoundly, achingly lucky am I. I have found my true love, my fellow architect of beautiful chaos, my favorite conversation that never ends. She is the poem I never knew how to write, but now we compose our verses together, every day.