One half of me is yours, the other half is yours.

Rebecca and Jonathan met the way many couples meet these days, on an app. It was early 2022, and Jonathan was just beginning to dip his toe back into the dating pool. Meanwhile, Rebecca was growing frustrated with Los Angeles, which seemed to be a city filled with amazing things to do and see, but severely lacking in single, smart, Jewish, kind, funny, incredibly handsome and charming guys who matched her particular charms. As it goes, he found her profile on Bumble, and thought she was beautiful and charming. He was in disbelief that she was real; a single, sexy, Jewish doctor?? No way, he thought, that’s a bot designed to get me to engage. Jonathan is cynical and knows the power of marketing automation, afterall, but he clicked the “heart” button anyway. When she saw his Bumble profile, it was replete with red flags, mostly puns. So many puns. Against her better judgment, she matched with him, and sent a note in the app challenging him on his choice of favorite ice cream. He says it’s mint chocolate chip, she thinks mint chocolate cookie is the superior flavor. It was a nothing of a note, but it was undeniably real. She was real. It was the first step on their journey together. A few weeks later, they set up a first date on March 1. They met at a waterfront restaurant, just before sunset. It was perfect and awkward and perfectly awkward. They sat on a bench and watched the sun go down, while Jonathan embarrassed himself by swearing to heaven he saw a seal. (It was a buoy.) In spite of his inability to differentiate a common sea mammal from an inanimate object, Rebecca gave him a chance. The conversation flowed like they’d known each other their whole lives. It was easy. It was effortless. As the meal came to a close, neither of them wanted the night to end. They heard live music emanating from another spot on the pier, so they strolled there in the moonlight, holding hands like they still do on their daily walks. Ultimately, he walked her to her car, she drove him back to his, they shared their first kiss, and they’ve been together since. A few dates later, he nervously confesses he loves her. She replies in kind, and in tears. Then she tells him she’s holding on to a secret of sorts: she’d applied to a job in San Diego. If you know Jonathan, you know he loves Los Angeles. He wouldn’t move, would he? Of course, she knew it was so early in the relationship to even talk about major life changes together, but Rebecca is, if nothing else, pragmatic. She is a planner. She asked him, “would you consider moving to San Diego?” His response typifies Jonathan’s passive improvisational idealism, “I’d consider it.” It was a perfect example of how they balance; she plans, he rolls. She studies, he goes with his instinct. As a bittersweet, but mostly sweet, aside: Early in their courtship, Jonathan’s beloved husky Candy was diagnosed with osteosarcoma, and left him forever just a few weeks later. While heartbroken, he knew his home wasn’t a home with just himself and Whiskey (his Shiba Inu). In under two weeks, he had sourced a rescue puppy named Buddy. Buddy was A LOT. Buddy was a half-labrador half-french bulldog adolescent with more energy and vigor than anything Jonathan had ever encountered. Jonathan told Rebecca, “I just adopted Buddy, he needs a better name though.” Well, the sweet side of that story. Jonathan renamed him Rye, but he is no longer Jonathan’s dog. He had adopted Rebecca as his rightful owner. He is the sweetest boy, a menace to be sure, but loving to the core. Candidly, when they hit a rough patch, as all young couples do, it was Rye who kept them together. And thank goodness he did. Needless to say, dear reader, you’re on their wedding website. You know where the story goes. Rebecca and Jonathan and Rye and Whiskey are a family. Rebecca got the job in San Diego. Jonathan sold his house and left the city he loved for the woman he loved more.