So this one time at band camp, two nerds took forever to notice each other — and the universe eventually had to step in. It all truly began the day a high school freshman passed out in the parking lot. Our paths had always run parallel. We went to all the same schools. Mitch lived down the road from one of Isabel’s best friends. We were even in marching band together. But we barely interacted. Mitch was a social butterfly, outgoing, sporty, funny — the kind of person who brings sunshine into the room. Isabel was quieter, happiest curled up at the end of a hallway with a book or a sketchpad, sticking close to her small circle of friends. Then came that scorching North Carolina afternoon at after-school band practice. A freshman refused to take off his jacket in 90-degree heat. Isabel was on the podium conducting; Mitch was in the crowd with his baritone. They both noticed the kid wobbling. Then they watched him go down. In the same instant, Isabel climbed off the podium and Mitch rushed forward, slipping his jacket under the kid’s head. And there it was — a spark. Small, but real. The first time we truly saw each other. (Ew, so sappy) Isabel, being sly, asked for Mitch’s number “in case the kid passed out again and she needed help.” We talked for a few weeks, getting to know each other and finding we had some things in common. We became friends. Leaves changed, the weather cooled, we got in the swing of highschool life, but nothing had really taken hold just yet. That's when fate struck in the most chaotic way possible: Isabel got in a car accident. It happened at the Loggins chicken stew, in front of what felt like a hundred witnesses in the front yard. Isabel’s beat-up Buick was turning into the driveway, with her best friend and brother in the car, when a huge pickup truck barreled up the hill. She stopped just in time to watch him overcorrect, fly into the ditch, and hit a tree in Aunt Drema’s front yard. Mortifying enough… but she’d also forgotten to put the registration back in the car, the other driver was yelling to anyone who’d listen, and the state trooper blamed her without talking to a single witness. (Rude.) Overwhelmed and panicking, Isabel messaged Mitch to explain what happened. And Mitch — who had never met her family — showed up. In his little red pickup. He stayed the whole night, meeting Loggins after Loggins, making her feel safe. When it was time to leave, he drove her best friend Molly home first, then Bel to the opposite side of town. Standing under the streetlamp in her driveway, we almost shared our first kiss. Almost. (It happened the next day.) From there, everything fell into place. Aunt Tammy followed us on our first official date. Grandpa Celestini gifted Mitch a handkerchief (Grandma Lynn insisted he should always have one to wipe away a ladies tears). There were marching band games, movie nights, and long drives. We went to community college together, then App State — definitely not the plan, but fate had opinions. We cheered each other across the graduation stage. Mitch became a probation officer. Isabel tried teaching (briefly) before admitting middle schoolers are feral and switching to graphic design. We moved into our first tiny apartment with hand-me-downs and broken furniture. We adopted some fur babies who immediately took over our lives. There's our son Archibald Wilson Hampton the Third, and our three daughters, Zelda The Great and Powerful Emperor Maow Maow Meowzadon, Sylvie the three legged wonder (aka Princess Sparkles), and Peter Peter 'Pumpkin' Eater. And now, ten years later, we're still here — growing together, laughing together, building something beautiful together. We are so in love, and so thankful for every person who helped us get to this moment. Thank you for celebrating with us, and for reading our story.