Jenna and I met the way all great love stories do - at a brewery, of course. It was one of those perfect afternoons where the beer was cold, the vibe was great, and we both had the brilliant idea to bring our dogs, Max and Saydee, along for the ride. Before we even had a chance to awkwardly sip our drinks and overthink our first-date small talk, our dogs were already in full rom-com mode - chasing each other around, rolling in the dirt, and basically deciding for us that we belonged together. That afternoon, as I watched Jenna laughing, effortlessly beautiful with a beer in one hand and Saydee’s leash in the other, I knew. This was it. This was her. A few days later, I was out on Lake Lanier, fishing with a buddy, when I got a Snapchat from Jenna. Expecting a cute selfie or maybe a funny dog pic, I casually opened it - only to find her in the back of an ambulance, on a gurney, smiling and crying at the same time with the caption: "I just got hit by a bus." Cue full panic mode. I immediately called her. "Jenna… did you actually just get hit by a bus?!" Yep. Jenna had, in fact, been literally run over by a bus. She broke her foot, cracked her skull open, and somehow still managed to look adorable while in an ambulance. She thought it was sweet that I offered to drive all the way to Tennessee to pick her up and take care of her while she was recovering, but she insisted she’d be okay. Once she made it back to Georgia, our next date had to be something low - impact due to, you know, bus-related injuries. So, naturally, we chose another brewery - this time closer to her in Dawsonville. We sat by the fire pit, talked about life, our pasts, our future dog-parenting strategies, and at some point, I finally worked up the courage to kiss her. Max and Saydee approved. Then, just when we thought the universe had finally given us a break, I went on my annual golf trip to Myrtle Beach. Things were going great… until I started feeling absolutely terrible. Fever, chills, the whole nine yards. My first thought was? Wow, this is how I go. My second thought? Wait… Jenna? So I texted her: "Hey, super random question… do you have COVID? Because I think I’m dying." And that’s when Jenna, completely unaware, replies: "What?! No! I mean… I felt kinda bad after I got back from Tennessee, but I just thought it was bus related." Turns out, Jenna unknowingly caught COVID on her trip, brushed it off like it was nothing, and then accidentally gave it to me. While she powered through like a champ, I was sweating through my sheets, questioning my life choices, and preparing to meet my maker. At this point, we had both nearly died - Jenna from a literal bus, me from Jenna. And yet, through all of it, we took care of each other. She nursed me back to health, I stuck around despite the undeniable evidence that she might be bad for my health, and somehow, it all just made sense. The rest? Well, the rest is history. We both almost died because we met each other, and honestly, we wouldn’t have it any other way.