We matched on a dating app with zero expectations, just a simple plan for Taco Tuesday. Matt was ready; Elena had just flown back from Europe and had to bail thanks to jet lag. Rain check accepted. Two days later, on a Thursday after work, we met at Blackie’s by the Newport Pier for a surf. Low stakes, fun waves, and a sunset that outperformed any small talk. Dinner followed, and it turned out we spoke the same language: surfing and good food. That missed Taco Tuesday became our running joke, and then our routine. We agreed to make up for it the next week and accidentally started a tradition: every Tuesday, tacos. In between, we kept paddling out together, finding that we clicked just as naturally on land as we did in the water. No grand declarations, just steady, easy momentum. After a year of that rhythm—waves, tacos, life—Matt started planning. He wanted the proposal to feel like us: outdoors, unforced, a place we already loved. So he chose one of our regular camping spots, where the day lined up almost suspiciously perfect: glassy surf, warm weather, a skyline that didn’t need a filter. As the sun dropped, he asked. Elena was totally blindsided, in the best way. Now we’re gearing up for the next chapter with all our favorite people around us. Same deal as day one: keep surfing, keep sharing tacos, keep choosing each other. Marriage just makes it official. Adventure continues.