The summer of 2019 was one filled with travel, weddings, and a roach infested apartment. Due to the roaches and my Entomophobia, I ended my lease early and moved to an apartment complex tucked away on the edge of Wissahickon, Rochelle Arms. The night I received my keys, I brought a bottle of champagne and a couple siblings, walked the first floor hallway to the back unit, and toasted in that empty apartment with no working electricity (yet). My siblings took my beagle outside to wait while I Iocked the door. A handsome man with a chiseled jawline came through the front door with his German Shepherd. He asked my siblings, "Can the dogs meet?". Then, out I walked, about to meet my first neighbor, Sam. We exchanged some small talk, then parted ways. My sister, Maureen, turned to me and said, "He's so cute, Trish!" I agreed, but in the back of my head I thought, dating a neighbor is a slippery slope, so I dismissed it. Over the next few weeks of slowly moving in, Sam and I would run into each other coming and going. As the nights became colder and the days became shorter, November set in and the city was inching towards the holiday season. Sticking to my weekday routine, I came home from work on the 21st of November and leashed up Emma for our evening walk. To my subtle surprise, I ran into Sam as he was walking in. I knew in that moment I would be stopped for a long conversation. Sam was a talker. Eventually, Sam asked if he could join Emma and me on our walk. We walked up and down Rochelle Ave. and I got more of a glimpse into Sam’s world. When we arrived back at Rochelle Arms, we were approached by George, the so-called “assistant manager” of the apartment complex. When George finally parted, Sam asked, “What plans do you have this weekend?” I answered and Sam goes, “Well, would you like to grab dinner tomorrow night?” I said yes. I gave him my number, and he said, “Great, I’ll text you”. The following day at work, a Friday, I spent all day waiting for Sam to confirm our plans via text. Of course, I wasn’t about to show up to a date if it wasn’t confirmed in writing. Well, 3:30 p.m. rolls around and there was still no text. We were meeting at 5:00. I get done work at 4:30. That means he had just one hour before I was to catch my bus home for the day. What do I do if he doesn’t text me? Do I go home and hope to run into him in the hallway and say I wasn’t sure if dinner was confirmed? Do I meet at our agreed upon meeting spot in Rittenhouse Square and risk being stood up? All of these thoughts were flooding my mind. Well, he texted me. Eventually. So that cold November evening after work, I walked to meet him in Rittenhouse Square. We walked to SouthGate, a Korean restaurant/bar in Grad Hospital. When asked if we preferred table or bar seating, I replied “bar” right away. It’s more casual that way. We had quite the adventure that night, walking from center city to Grad Hospital and back again, talking and drinking our way through the different spots. I learned that Evan was Sam’s number one by the way he talked about Evan. One of the many green flags I saw right off the bat. I tried to mostly listen, having been on many first dates prior and looking for any red flag I could. Mentally, I took notes. Sam, being the gentleman he is, offered to drive me home. Since we lived at the same location, I agreed. He took a detour to show me his favorite view of the city. Then invited me to join him on the rooftop of our apartment to share a bottle of a local gin he had (gin being my favorite liquor). Not realizing we had roof access, I agreed excitedly. I walked up the creepy, dark staircase to meet Sam on the roof. Then, to my dismay, had to climb an even scarier ladder. I put a lot of trust in my internal judge of character that night. The views were worth it. And so was saying yes to that first dinner date.

December 2018 Homebound. I moved from Camp Lejeune, NC, and back to Philadelphia, PA, to Rochelle Arms in Wissahickon, excited and stressing over this next chapter. I found a small corner apartment on the second floor, with a great view of the Wissahickon, located at the corner of the woods. August 2019 I saw a small group of people moving in, and I thought we were all about the same age. They appeared very lively. Since it was getting late, it was time to get Ryleigh outside and start winding down for the night. They had a beagle. I asked if they could meet, hopeful it would go well. Everyone seemed so nice. I couldn't see because my eyes had not adjusted to the dark outside, but I remembered everyone's voices. I remembered her voice. August to Late November 2019 I would see her going in and out of the building. I knew I wanted to get to know her. I knew I looked forward to seeing her, and I don't exactly remember when, but I remember knowing I would see her and smile thinking about her. I saw her coming home from work while I was working on my car out front. At that moment, something clicked in my head – I decided to try talking with her. I wanted to see if she was available. She came out with Emma, and I asked if I could walk with her, and she said, "Sure." We walked Emma down and up Rochelle Ave. We talked about how we ended up at Rochelle Arms. We talked about me finishing school and eventually walked back to the apartment building and her floor, where we ran into Rochelle Arm's pseudo-residential, self-proclaimed assistant property manager, George. I wanted him to leave already; I wanted to ask her out, but he kept going and going and going about all the problems and people in the world. It must have been at least 20 minutes in the hallway before he left. Finally, George went home, and I asked her if she was free Friday and wanted to go to dinner with me. I was pleasantly surprised when she said, "Yes." We agreed to meet in Rittenhouse Square after work and have dinner together. Our Last First date I didn't want to call her too soon. I didn't want to seem too eager or overly excited. I decided to wait to call or text. Did she say she was usually very busy during the workday? I couldn't remember, but we were going to meet at the park after work anyway, and she seemed like the type to be fully capable of taking care of herself. So, a few hours went by, and I was on my way to Rittenhouse Square to meet her. I arrived a little early so she wouldn't have to wait for me. Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack came the sound of her heels, and they grew louder and louder with a quickened pace. I could hear it from the other end of the park. And I turned my head and saw her. Slender, black jacket, bundled up. She wore a dark maroon hat with a mauve puff on top – I wouldn't even know the name of that color if it wasn't for her. Her arms crossed, looking angry as sin. I remember thinking, "So, it's going to be like that tonight." Maybe I should have contacted her earlier. I asked her how she was doing, and she said, "Fine." We walked toward Southgate, where we sat at the bar. She took off her jacket, and underneath was a thin, dark red sleeveless shirt – I'll never forget how she looked that night. Poised. Determined. Always thinking. Her hair was down in waves. Her brown boots with her legs crossed as we sat facing each other at the bar. She had self-respect. She wouldn't give up the time of day for anyone who did not respect or appreciate her. She knew value. Dating was not something casual for her. She knew exactly what she wanted and exactly what she was looking for. She was not the type to let some random person into her life. She is the real deal. After dinner, we decided to walk for a bit, and I wanted to show her some views of the city that I love. Eventually, we made our way back to Wissahickon, grabbed a bottle of gin, and went to the roof to watch the skyline and stars.