On a warm night out with our respective friends - Nate after a bocce ball loss Jacqui after a colleague's farewell happy hour - we landed via mutual friends at a (terrible) bar in North Beach. Jacqui was depleted of all niceties and sat down grumpily next to the only person who she hadn't spoken to all night. We'll never know exactly what came of that first conversation, but it flowed like water, which we both forgot to drink that night. Within hours of meeting and a night in Washington Square Park, we parted ways with a kissy/winky face text message and a promise to see each other again soon.

After a day's trek all over the Bay Area - and we mean ALL over - we stepped out into Golden Gate Park to stretch our tired legs and run errands. Jacqui was preoccupied with finding the way to the bus stop because her feet were about to fall off, but Nate wanted to take a scenic route. He guided us to the Conservatory of Flowers and a small quiet path that winds behind it and towards the northern side of the park. At the top of the path our neighborhood was lit by the slow glowing dusk trying to reach us. In a tight, warm embrace, Nate proclaimed how much he loved these moments together; Jacqui muttered that we'd miss the bus. And without skipping a beat, Nate dropped to a knee with a small wooden box full of gold and light and asked to be married. Jacqui cried like a child, blubbered a response - that still has never included the phrase, "Yes, I'll marry you" - and we set off to sound the alarm to our families over the phone in the shade of the trees we love to walk amongst.