Our story began in high school — quietly, almost imperceptibly. We shared a few classes, a few laughs, and always seemed to notice each other a little more than we let on. There was a mutual crush, unspoken but understood. Though the timing wasn’t quite right back then, something about our connection lingered. Life carried us in different directions, but every now and then, I’d find myself wondering about him. I’d check in from time to time, just to say hello. There was always a softness in those moments, a familiar feeling that never seemed to fade. Nearly ten years after we graduated, I was home one evening and happened to see Wade on Snapchat maps — it looked like he was in my building. I messaged him on impulse. He replied, letting me know he was actually just across the street — and, to my surprise, he’d be moving into the building in a few months. We chatted briefly, and casually agreed that if we ever found ourselves out in Wrigleyville (where we both liked to go), we should meet up. Weeks later, that moment came. I was out in Wrigley with friends and decided to invite him. By chance — or maybe destiny — he had just left a Cubs game nearby. My friends decided to head to River North, so I extended the invitation to Wade and his group. To my surprise, he came… alone. I found out later that he hadn’t planned to come at all — but a friend had sneakily texted me from his phone to say he would. All night I told my friends it was just a friendly meetup. But when Wade kissed me, I knew it wasn’t just friendly. Something had shifted. Something had begun. One week later, on April 28th, 2023, we went on our first real date — to Mercadito. It was warm, effortless, filled with laughter and something beautifully familiar. Two years later, in that very same place where our love officially began, Wade got down on one knee and asked me to spend forever with him. And now, here we are — writing the next chapter of the love story that waited patiently, quietly, for the perfect time to begin.