Nick and I go way back—like middle school back. We met when we were 12 and spent our summers boating on the lake, thinking we were way cooler than we actually were. We even “dated” back then (which, let’s be honest, mostly meant hanging out and having feelings we didn’t know how to talk about yet). Eventually, life happened. I moved away, we lost touch for about five years, and we both went on to have long-term relationships that taught us a lot… mainly what we didn’t want. Funny enough, even during all that time, I think we both always had a soft spot for each other—we just never admitted it. Fast forward to adulthood, post-breakups, when our parents decided they knew best and made us meet up again. Turns out, they were right. We hit it off instantly, like no time had passed. Nick even insisted I go to a bar with him that night (bold move), and I told him he could come to a concert with me a couple weeks later. That was basically the start of everything. Our relationship took off fast—in the best way ( a lot of people think we are crazy). We both knew what we wanted, and somehow it was standing right in front of us. Being together felt easy, natural, and fun, like we’d skipped the awkward part and went straight to being ourselves. Since then, we’ve been making up for lost time—watching fireworks in Washington on the 4th of July, going to FairWell Festival, exploring Arizona and Oklahoma, and collecting way too many favorite memories to pick just one. Now we’re planning our next adventure: getting married, moving to Tennessee, bringing our dogs Clover and Chop with us, and obviously adding another dog to the family (because why not?). Turns out, the boy I spent summers with on the lake was never really out of my life—just waiting for the right time to come back.