Our story began at Seneca, on a cold morning in early January 2025, while we waited for our first class to begin. A simple exchange - about the holidays, about faith - revealed a shared belief, and with it, a quiet understanding. From that moment, something tender took root. We sat beside one another in lectures, chose each other as partners for Tuesday labs, and soon found our days gently overlapping. After our first lab, we wandered into a café called Aroma, where coffee and matcha became our pause between classes, and conversation lingered longer than time allowed. After reading week, he placed in my hands a container filled with homemade rusks and cookies - a reminder of home, prepared with care. He told me it was a thank you, for faith shared and hearts drawn closer to God. I knew then that this was no ordinary kindness. As the weeks passed, he arrived earlier and lingered longer, always finding a place beside me. We laughed freely, dreamt softly, and spoke of futures that seemed, almost surprisingly, the same. On April 17th, after our exams had ended, he took me to paint in Guelph. Later, beneath warm sunlight and a gentle breeze, standing together on a bridge, he asked if I would begin a faith-centered relationship with him. I said yes. Summer kept us apart, but never distant. Our weekends were spent in long conversations that stretched for hours, carrying us through the months until our paths met again. When I returned, he was waiting. The days that followed were filled with shared joy - studying side by side, worshipping together, cooking, and laughing. That winter, we found ourselves in the Algonquin Highlands, in a small cabin surrounded by stillness. At Duchesnay Falls, he spoke words from Scripture, “What God has joined together, let no one separate.” Overcome, I said yes.