Lauren and I met in Fall 2013 during sophomore year at Palos Verdes High School. On the first day of Spanish 3 Honors, Sr. Lynch sat Lauren behind me and I enjoyed bantering with the new girl from Palo Alto. My flirting techniques were sophomoric. For example, I wrote ‘Dick’ on one side of Lauren’s eraser and ‘Cheney’ on the other side. But, after several months of flirting (in my authentic Spanish accent), I could tell Lauren was into me. So, I thought of something romantic—I took Lauren to Casa Playa. It was the most awkward first date of all time. Lauren was significantly taller than me—even the waitress started laughing when she saw us together. Lauren forgot her wallet at Casa Playa (per usual) and we drove around PV listening to my music (which I later learned she hated). Fast forward several months—I’m driving around one night with Stephen Vincent. I hatched up a plan—a dumb plan. I asked Lauren to meet us at In-N-Out. After In-N-Out, we took Lauren to the Belmont Village Senior Living Home (a super romantic location). I asked Stephen to depart. While we enjoyed the views of the LA Skyline at night, I kissed Lauren—it was her first kiss! Then I thought, “Wow, that was bad.” Lauren drove me home (and missed her 11pm curfew for the first time). After this escapade, I decided to double-down on my studies (Surprisingly, I had a higher high school GPA than Lauren). She (and I) proceeded to date some ~interesting~ people. The summer before senior year, we did the annual pilgrimage to Hume Lake Christian Camp. Sitting at the Lake, Lauren and I had a heartfelt conversation and rekindled our friendship. We both shared similar values, aspirations, and faith. We were both mature for our age and deeply intellectual. For my 18th birthday, Lauren painted me a card. I was shocked by this act of kindness—no one had ever painted me a card before. I knew Lauren was different. On January 1, 2016, we kissed as the ball dropped on New Year's Eve. We started dating shortly after Senior Formal. We were different in many ways—Lauren was taller, drove a Prius, and as a prank, signed me up as a donor for Hillary Clinton’s Election Campaign. I was shorter, drove a truck, and had a weird obsession with American flags. Dates consisted of Beach Bowls Acai Cafe, Strand rides, and sketchy taco trucks in South LA (which required me to drive because Lauren had never driven on the freeway). Despite mutual acceptances to UCLA, Lauren chose Stanford and I chose TCU (I didn’t get off the waitlist at Harvard—I had to include this detail for clout—it has nothing to do with the story). We prayed about long-distance and opted to proceed, even though Lauren’s family moved back to Palo Alto and the odds of making a 1,700 mile long-distance relationship work were slim-to-nil. Long-distance was brutal—but a blessing in disguise. Stanford and TCU are polar opposite—and both challenging in their own ways. By having two college experiences, Lauren and I gained invaluable balance + perspective. Determined to make our relationship work, I became a wizard at flights. To pay for flights, we would deliver food thru DoorDash. Whenever my flights were delayed (which was often), I wrote to the airlines (like a Karen) for travel vouchers. We made sacrifices to see each other—it was hard. But, we were determined and committed. We had incredible shared experiences—like when I joined Lauren’s Stanford trip to rural Kenya (as the only guy). COVID interrupted our senior year of college. As classes moved online, we isolated together in Oregon. After great effort (and some luck), we both got jobs in Dallas (at Goldman Sachs and Bain & Company). After 4.5 years of long-distance, Lauren joined me in Dallas in Spring 2021. I saved all of my boarding passes and calculated that I flew a total of 159,526 miles to visit Lauren—that’s 6.4 times around the planet. Thank you for our friends and family for supporting us during the last 8 years of our relationship!

Lauren is my best friend. She’s loyal, steadfast, and independent. She’s wicked smart and wicked funny. She’s my intellectual sparring partner and my shoulder to cry on. Lauren knows me better than anyone in the entire world. It’s been the blessing of a lifetime to watch Lauren grow into the woman she is today. I am grateful to God that He blessed me, an imperfect person, with someone as amazing as Lauren. Lauren, cheers to 8-years of being together—and a lifetime of more.

Chris and I met in 2013, my first day of school after moving to PV as a sophomore. He sat in front of me in Spanish class, thanks to Señor Lynch, God, or both. Whether he was taking pity on the new girl or actually liked me, I wasn’t sure, but I remember thinking that Chris was kind, smart, and most of all - funny. Everyone and their mom seemed to know and love Chris (even before his Starbucks barista days), and I started to also. I figured I wasn’t popular enough for him, since I was a Palo Alto nerd with a Prius who certainly had never dated. At the end of the year, I realized a few things. 1) Chris’s full name was not, in fact, Cristóbal. 2) Chris might like me. I knew it the day he wrote “Dick…. Cheney” on two sides of my eraser. On the last day of school, he asked for my Snapchat. It was the first time a guy had asked for my contact information. Naturally, I immediately ran home to tell my mom about it. This late blooming is a key difference between LA kids and NorCal kids. In June of 2014, Chris took me on our first date. It was shockingly well thought out for a 16-year-old guy, except that he ordered a huge burrito (I, naturally, was smart enough to get a bowl). The lady at Casa Playa laughed at us, apparently due to our signature height difference. Post-burrito, Chris took me to 3 different beaches, which I thought was the most romantic thing ever despite the trap music he played the whole time. I checked my phone daily hoping Chris would take me out again. Eventually, he did, but it was… a little lackluster. We met at In ‘n Out, where I discovered Stephen Vincent was joining our date. We proceeded to a “lookout spot” (in hindsight, Chris knew a suspicious amount of these). The lookout turned out to be the backyard of a retirement home. I chatted with Stephen while Chris peed for the 3rd time. Finally, Stephen left, and Chris and I had our first kiss. Despite all of my YouTube studying, it was horrible - mostly because of me, since Chris had been dating since 6th grade, but partially because of Chris’s braces. I awkwardly dropped Chris off, then cried as I got home past my 11pm curfew (my phone had also died). Dad - I hope you are grateful that getting home at 11:45pm is the biggest trouble I have ever been in. Fast forward a month and Chris had ghosted me. In classic angsty teen fashion, I listened to John Legend and wallowed in my heartbreak for the rest of the summer. I even took my baby brother and dog to the park Chris drove by to soccer camp each morning, hoping he would regret his choice. Turns out 16 year old boys aren’t into golden retrievers and babies. Junior year, I changed tactics - making up my mind that I was entering my “rebel” era. I dyed my hair blond, shifted to a “SoCal” wardrobe (if you know you know) and started dating other guys. While not recommended, this approach did, in fact, work. By the end of the year, Chris was clearly jealous. Around that time, I joined the River Church - experiencing a revitalization of my faith. I initiated a conversation with Chris at Hume Lake, where we reconciled and talked for hours. That fall, I couldn’t wait to see him in class, and started to see him differently. He was the captain of the soccer team, despite being unable to play due to concussions. He was a leader at our church. He was an incredible friend - the kind who didn’t drink but always drove. He was smart, and moreso, endlessly curious about the world around him. He continued to make me laugh like no other, and encouraged me as I applied to college. I painted Chris an 18th birthday card because I knew his concussions and college apps had been hard, and I wanted him to know I cared. I wasn’t explicitly thinking “I want to date Chris”, but putting my respect for him on paper was a catalyst. Chris kissed me on New Years, and soon after told me he wanted to take me to Formal, but only if I would date him. That’s the kind of guy Chris is and was - sure of himself, committed, and fiercely loyal.

I didn't want a long-term relationship as a senior. I remember talking to my cousin, Emma, and saying “Chris isn’t the kind of guy you date for 3 months, he’s the kind you marry”. Ever pragmatic, I told him I didn’t want to go to Formal with him. I immediately regretted it. Kunika and Alise told me Chris was going to ask someone ELSE to Formal (logically). Always a sore loser, I made an abrupt decision to intervene. We sped through the parking lot and the two of them (bless their hearts) interrupted his Formal ask while I hid in the backseat. We did go to formal. As I predicted, our relationship became very serious, very fast. We prayed intensely over college decisions, and I encouraged Chris to go to TCU instead of UCLA because his heart for Texas was clear. I was proud of him for making a counter-cultural choice, but slightly devastated he wouldn’t be in California. We also learned that my parents were moving back to the Bay Area. In retrospect, it REALLY seemed like we wouldn’t work out. But I don’t remember ever thinking “we can’t do this” or “this isn’t worth it”. Pragmatism had flown out the window, and I just remember thinking that Chris was my best friend, and he had made me into a version of myself I was proud of. Plus, neither of us was the type to turn down a challenge. We started visiting each other about once a month in college, spending money from multiple jobs (plus some contributions from Jill and John). Chris booked all of the flights, quickly becoming the logistical glue in our relationship that he still is today. Long distance was not easy, but it proved to me what I already knew: Chris was not like most men. He loved me beyond proximity, and truly valued my career and independence. Our trips always felt too short, but they brought the sweetest memories - traveling to Kenya, hanging out with my siblings in Black Butte, riding in the back of a truck in Fort Worth. Chris and I changed immensely over the course of college, giving us the rare privilege of growing up together. Shaping each other. Chris also saw my siblings grow up. If I could cite the first moment I KNEW I wanted to marry Chris, it was a random night when he took my brother, Nicholas, to the East Palo Alto Taco Bell at 10pm. Seeing the joy in Nicholas’s eyes that night (which I assumed wasn’t solely due to the free Chalupa), I had this profound realization that Chris was one of Nicholas’s biggest role models. If you're wondering how Chris mentors more people than humanly possible, so am I. Anyway, Nick was only 9 when Chris and I started dating. Whenever I came home, Nick would ask when he’d see CHRIS next (I wasn’t as popular). If you know me, you know that my siblings mean everything to me. That night, I realized that they were everything to Chris, too. I wanted him to be family. Moving to Texas was a big step, and the Bay Area population certainly scrutinized my choice. However, I knew I wanted to marry Chris. I was excited for my life as an adult, but more than that, I was excited to live life with Chris in full. The last three years of my life have been incomparable. Chris and I have navigated what it means to have an adult relationship. We have both worked crazy jobs, made many new friends, and traveled across the world. Perhaps most importantly, God has shaped us to be more confident and self-aware. We go to counseling (as a couple and individuals), we have a great spiritual community, and we are learning every day to be better versions of ourselves. We continue to learn and improve, together. What else could I ask for?

Chris is my best friend. He is a lover of people, the most well-read, curious person I know, and a devout follower of Jesus. He continues to make me laugh every day, exactly how he did in Spanish class 10 years ago. He strengthens my faith and reminds me of my value on the days I forget it. He believes in me, celebrates me, and pushes me in a way only rivaled by my dad. I would not be the person I am today without Chris, and I thank the Lord every day for bringing us together. Who knew that writing “Dick Cheney” on an eraser could be an act of God?