We met online like a lot of people do, with a swipe. What set things apart was not what happened after the first message, which involved a fragmented stream of random questions left on read, and jokes about drunk chinchillas— but what happened on the first date, which lasted 22 hours. It started at the Cleveland Museum of Art, where we found ourselves actually enjoying the same kind of weird, thoughtful commentary about old statues and surrealist paintings. From there, we had dinner in Little Italy. Good food, conversation was flowing like the martinis. No awkward pauses. Religion and politics were a must. Then we made a stop at his apartment in Terminal Tower for a glass of wine—partly for the view, partly because the night just didn’t feel like it was supposed to end yet. We shared a dance and our first kiss. The date had been on its’ 8th hour, so we went to her house to let the dogs out, and landed on the couch watching Romeo + Juliet. That’s when we realized it wasn’t just something to pass the time—but one of both of our favorite movies. It wasn’t a coincidence. It was a signal. Much like a number of things that would also align. It wasn’t a fairytale, it wasn’t fireworks. It was something better. All of it, familiar, rare, and real.