We met the old-fashioned way; No swiping, algorithms, or awkward bios. Just a mutual friend and his charming roommate. The groundwork had been laid months prior as I, Sophie, had scouted the 2018 University of Georgia football schedule, praying for chances to visit friends scattered across the SEC. I confidently committed to UGA, but as the start of school neared, reality set in: I was about to begin a new chapter in a state I’d only ever passed through to make a connecting flight. Thankfully, the Dawgs were set to play the South Carolina Gamecocks on September 8, in Columbia. I could visit Grayson, a kindred spirit since kindergarten. The only problem? I had no car, no friends with cars, and, to be honest, no friends. Fortunately, I was fresh out of sorority recruitment. While some sisters daydreamed about the 75 potential new bridesmaids they gained, I had something else in mind: the 75 potential chauffeurs at my disposal. I begged a new pledge sister to let me squeeze into her Camry after seriously contemplating the logistics – and odds of ending up on a Dateline special – if I took a Greyhound bus. After hours crammed in the middle seat (sporting a knee-high orthopedic boot to mend a stress fracture caused by unforgiving rush shoes), I had made it. It didn’t take me long to understand why Columbia was called the “armpit of the South,” From hobbling up the campus’s steepest hill to find Grayson’s dorm, I was sweat-soaked. All feelings of exhaustion quickly faded in the excitement of our union when Grayson and an entourage of his new friends greeted me. I was introduced to suitemates, friends from his hall, and Gray's roommate, Giancarlo Polizzi. The boys took my bags and we headed into Patterson Hall, ready for a weekend of tailgating, trash talking, and Taylor Swift jamming. In this moment, Giancarlo recalls experiencing “love at first sight.” I recall experiencing the urge to take a shower, blow-dry my hair, throw my boot off a cliff, and try the first impression over again. In all seriousness, this moment marked the beginning of a genuine friendship. Through his visits to Chicago and our run-ins at UGA vs. USC football games, Giancarlo and I grew closer. Less than a month into my move down South, I had met someone who, in time, would come to feel like home. The next fall, plans for Grayson, Giancarlo, and suitemate Thomas to visit Athens were set. By then, I had built real friendships within Theta. Grayson’s guys and my girls made for fast friends. We were jazzed. Bottom-shelf booze fueled our pursuits to adequately prepare for a night out in Athens, Georgia, still only teenagers, while an impending Uber pick-up was going to take us to the next location of the evening. That night, this group did its part to take advantage of the college town of all college towns’ distinction for the most bars per capita in the United States. While Athens boasts this “honor,” I think GC and I experienced the horror of one White Claw too many. Inhibitions had fled the scene. I may or may not have told him, “You’re going to kiss me tonight.” He may or may not have gone along with it. The rest, as they say, is history. Every flight boarded, mile driven, and letter sent made our long-distance relationship thrive. We grew in trust, maturity, and closeness. How lucky we are to have felt so known so young. Our relationship took careful communication and commitment. We endured a pandemic, a few cross-country moves, career changes, and lots of spotty FaceTime coverage. We are better because of it. On our final weekend of long-distance dating, just before GC moved to Chicago so we could be together, he brought me to our favorite walking spot. Gazing out at the skyline of the city that was soon to be “ours,” he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I’m forever thankful for those two kids who, despite being a tad cringey, trusted in their young love. They got it right.