It was our very first day of college, and fate had strategically placed us both in Memorial House on The Commons at Vanderbilt. It wasn't just a dorm; it became the enchanted backdrop to our beginning. It was the setting for countless campfire s'mores, impromptu Oscar movie nights on basement projector screens, celebratory late night holiday parties, and even the occasional, oddly productive Grey's Anatomy study session. Initially, we were two souls living just two floors apart, orbiting each other through mutual friends. Our first adventure was a delightfully awkward alien themed Zeta date party. With goofy costumes and even goofier dancing, we sealed the deal on an incredible friendship, a bond so solid it took us a little while to realize it was actually the foundation for forever. The universe, however, had a plan. In our second year, Memorial House called us back. Jon returned as a Resident Advisor, and through a twist of fate, an extra spot opened up in the middle of the year, placing me right beside him on the RA team. Suddenly, we were coworkers, living only one floor apart. This forced proximity was a gift, turning those casual run-ins into daily conversations. We went from friends to best friends, sharing everything. We finally caught up to what everyone else already knew, and what the universe had plotted since day one. Over halfway through our third year, Jon found the courage to ask me out. From that moment, the pages of our story turned quickly. We are living proof that the most profound love stories are rooted in the deepest friendships: a love made even more memorable by the hallowed halls and cozy chaos of Memorial House.