It’s the beginning that’s always fun to talk about, and ours begins with the philosopher Plato, a friend’s not-so-subtle attempt at wing-manning, and Improv Broadway. In the Summer of 2024, I (Gabbie) was invited by my friend (Hannah, a different friend than the one who attempted to wing-man) to a reading group run by Dr. Joseph Spencer. The subject? Plato’s "Crito." The reading group had started a few weeks ago, and I was acutely conscientious of my status as a latecomer. I showed up 20 minutes early to my first meeting, I was so nervous. Of course, no one was there. No one but a lone student who I was too anxious to approach and ask if they were part of the reading group. So I scuttled off to some side seat in a corner and waited until another familiar face—Porter and I’s mutual friend, Dellan—found me and ushered me over to the reading group proper where I finally introduced myself to the rest of the students. That was the very first time Porter and I met. I remember being intimidated. The people gathered there were sharp, erudite, the kinds of people you like to listen to for the way their minds thread thoughts, connect dots. That included Porter. I also remember liking his hat, though nowadays I don’t remember at all what it looks like. That’s the strangest thing about recalling these memories of our first meeting. For what was ostensibly a very important moment, I remember so little of the details. I guess the most important thing I remember is that I liked talking with Porter. That fall semester, Porter invited the entire reading group to a movie night hosted on campus. Many of us agreed to come, but on the day of the movie night itself, only myself, Porter, and our other mutual friend, Brendan, (enter the mystery wing-man) attended. Our now identified wingman took it upon himself to blurt out at the conclusion of the movie, “My girlfriend and I were going to go to Improv Broadway with another couple, but they bailed on us. You both HAVE to come.” This was followed by a sheepish, “That is, if neither of you already have someone you’re dating.” (I must stress here that Brendan had known Porter for over a year, they were very good friends, and he definitely knew that Porter did, in fact, not have a significant other. But very subtle, Brendan. I applaud you). I blinked once, twice, and then stuttered out a soft, “I guess.” Porter mumbled out his own agreement in turn, the both of us perhaps a bit too embarrassed to look at each other, and that was that—our first technical date set to the backdrop of an at times hilarious, at times cringey, improv broadway performance. We talked so much during the show that we were shushed by the woman sitting in front of us. To this day, Brendan refuses to admit that his intention was to set Porter and I up. But, this certainly makes for a much better story. So, thank you Brendan (and his now-wife, Esther, for enduring Improv Broadway alongside us, which turned out to be a strangely relational and entertaining force). From there the rest is history, as they say. I won’t blather on with all the details (aside from this last aside to mention that Porter proposed in October, creating a handmade book for me featuring some of our favorite love poems), as I’ll keep those stories for myself and Porter. Regardless, we’d like to thank you for being part of this story, the story of our lives, and from hence onward, the entwining of those lives. We’re excited to celebrate yet more of that story with you in May! Cheers, Gabbie & Porter