Our Story
Our love story:
He was a poor artist with nothing but a sketchbook and three bucks. And I was engaged to a rich jerk.
We met aboard an unsinkable ship where he taught me to spit like a man and danced with me in third class while everyone else got food poisoning. He spread his arms and yelled something cringe about being king of the world. I rolled my eyes so hard I almost fell overboard.
Then came the iceberg. And the door that apparently only fits one.
Just kidding. We met on Hinge.
For all the days along the way