We are getting married!

It was supposed to be just another Saturday. Nothing special. No plans, no real direction—just another day in a routine that was starting to feel hollow. I messaged a couple of friends to see what they were up to. They mentioned a Hawaiian-themed birthday party. I didn’t think much of it, but I said sure. One more person wouldn’t make a difference. On the surface, I was just looking for something to do. But the truth was, I was exhausted—tired of nights that blurred together, tired of the noise, the parties, the smiles that never quite reached my eyes. I had been going through the motions, convincing myself I was fine. Still, I showed up. Maybe out of habit. Maybe out of hope that something—anything—might feel different. The house was already buzzing with people when we arrived. Laughter echoed, music pulsed. But none of it landed. It all felt like background noise. The night grew on and everything started to blend. I asked a friend if he wanted to step outside to get some air. It was a cool, quiet October night—the kind that actually makes you stop and feel something. That’s when I saw you. You stepped onto the deck, and time sort of… paused. You were talking to my friend, and I stood there silently, wondering if you remembered me. Because I remembered you. Sixth grade. You were my first “girlfriend,” if you can call it that. I remember how I broke things off just to play video games—something I used to laugh about, but in that moment, it didn’t feel so funny anymore. I didn’t know what to say, so I stepped back, unsure. Awkward, almost embarrassed that I couldn't add anything to the conversation. But watching you, something inside me stirred. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time. You were full of life. Our mutual friend left and suddenly it was just us... I didn't know what to say. I contemplated whether or not I should even say anything. You turned to me and asked, “Karate at North Branch?”—referencing something completely random and hilarious. I laughed. Not because I had to, but because I couldn’t help it. I started to explain to you the inside joke and in that moment, something shifted. Your presence quieted the noise in my head. It felt like I was waking up after a long time asleep. We talked. About nothing I can remember now. It was light, but it meant something. For the first time in a long time, I felt like me again. Like someone I actually wanted to be. It was as if, without even knowing it, you were pulling me away from a path that had never truly been mine. Eventually, it was time to go. I still had a curfew back then. I went inside to say goodbye to my friends, glanced around for you—but you were already gone. On the drive home, a thought kept looping in my head: What if that was it? But the next morning, I woke up to a Snapchat from you. A simple picture. You were heading to church, smiling. Something about it hit me harder than I expected. It was ordinary—but it meant everything. I smiled. I answered. And just like that, something began. Looking back now, I realize how close I came to missing it all. If I hadn’t gone to that party. If I hadn’t stepped outside. If you hadn’t spoken to me. It’s wild how the most important moments don’t always arrive with fireworks. Sometimes they come quietly, like a whisper pulling you back from the edge. I didn’t know it then, but that was the beginning of us. And in so many ways… the beginning of me, too.

October 8, 2016, was a Saturday. The kind of slow, sunlit day where time stretches, but you feel too unmotivated to do anything about it. That evening, I had a birthday party to attend—a Hawaiian-themed party, to be exact. Before I left, I had another fight with an ex. He didn’t want me to go—there would be boys there, and to him, that was reason enough. Things escalated like they always did. It took me too long to realize that with him, the storm always returned. I arrived at the party right at 7pm on the dot, only a few people were inside, so I helped set up. As the night stretched on, more people trickled in. That night I felt like I had been hurt so much, to the point that one wrong move could shatter me for days. I wanted to feel in control for once, to not care. But when I scanned the party, looking for something—anything—to anchor me, my eyes landed on you. It was like a string had suddenly been pulled tight. I hadn’t spoken to you since sixth grade. Back then, you were my first real crush. And in my eleven-year-old mind, I loved you. I wrote your initials on my wrist and ankle, memorized your favorite color, and watched you wear plaid like it was your signature. I remembered how you used to show off how you knew how to "jerk", how you even tried to teach me once (I was terrible). We “dated” for two days, until you broke up with me. You told me later on that you just wanted to play video games instead. LOL. After sixth grade, we simply… lost touch. I never hated you, but for years, every time I saw you in the halls, all those sixth-grade feelings came rushing back, and I felt embarrassed. But that night? That night was different. If I could replay that moment over and over again, I would. It wasn’t just that I was surprised to see you. A pull. A feeling I couldn’t quite place. I barely knew who you were anymore, but something inside me whispered: Go find out. And maybe, just maybe, that whisper was the invisible string tugging at me—guiding me back to you. I saw you again, stepping out onto the deck with your friend. I waited a few minutes before working up the courage to say hi. I wavered, deciding to talk to your friend instead. I could tell you were shy too. Reserved. Eventually, the friend left to do "Karate at North Branch" I asked you what that meant. You explained it and I laughed harder than I had in a year and a half. And then we talked. Small talk. But meaningful. The kind that makes time slip away too fast. I don’t think you’ll ever understand the impact you had on me that night. I felt nervous. Butterflies. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time. When you spoke to me, you made me genuinely smile. And you will never know how much I already loved you for that. I didn’t tell you then, but I told my friend to pass along a message—that I thought you were cute. She never did. And I’m glad. Because what happened next? It unfolded exactly as it was meant to. That night, I sent you a simple Snapchat. A picture of me, heading to church the next morning. You answered. And in that moment, I knew. Somewhere, in the space between our sixth-grade past and that October night, there had always been a string. A thin, invisible thread tying us together.

Our story started in a middle school classroom—Mrs. Alvarez’s 6th grade class, to be exact. We “dated” for two days back then, just kids really—shy, awkward, and unsure of what love was. But somehow, even after the laughs faded and the years passed, an invisible thread stayed tethered. Then came the fall of 2016... the thread tightened. It was a regular Saturday night, a birthday party neither of us had planned for—but somehow, everything aligned. One chance encounter. One meaningful conversation that echoed in the days that followed. We were older now. Different, yes—but still familiar. Still connected in a way that didn’t need explanation. On January 16, 2017, Anthony asked Grace to be his girlfriend through a scavenger hunt filled with inside jokes and stops that traced their earliest moments together. And just like that, the thread between them became visible—not just to them, but to everyone around them. It was real. What followed was the beginning of everything—late-night drives that turned into deep talks, trying new things together, and building a life that felt entirely our own. They grew through every season, every chapter. In 2022, they moved into their first apartment in Morristown, NJ. It was there that they became a little family—Nova, their soul dog, was spontaneously dropped into their lives (okay, fine—Grace kind of made that decision solo). That apartment held so many firsts: first shared holidays, first independent trips together. From Vegas to Asia to Vermont, that home was filled with laughter, growing pains, and love. It was there that they started to a build a home. 2023 brought change. A new apartment in Harrison, NJ. More memories. More miles on their passports—South Korea, Japan, the Bahamas. And one life-changing decision. Neither of them knew it then, but by the time that lease ended, they would be chasing a dream all the way to California. And slowly, a bigger picture started forming. As friends came and went, as family relationships shifted, there was always one thing that remained unchanged—them. In August 2024, they packed up everything—their lives, their Nova, and their home—and road-tripped from NJ to CA so Grace could begin her further her academic journey. Every stop along the way felt like a bridge from who they were to who they were becoming. Ohio, Utah, Illinois, Nevada... Suddenly, New Jersey felt like a past life. One they're endlessly grateful for and one that built the foundation. But now, in this new chapter, they are thriving more than ever. California gave them sunshine and space. Space to breathe, to grow, to dream without limits. And even with the chaos of new beginnings, they have never been more grounded. Because no matter how many things shift around them, they remain constant. The safe place. The one thing that feels like home no matter the zip code. And that once invisible string? It never snapped, never wavered. It is woven into every sunrise, every sunset and every step forward they take. They have decided that forever is a beautiful place to be. And the best part? This is only their beginning... "Whatever path we take, life is hard anyway. Be with someone you’d be happy to see each morning, so when life gives you tangerines, you wouldn’t be afraid to face the bitter, sweet and sour mix life has to offer" -When Life Gives you Tangerines (Grace & Anthony's favorite Kdrama).

Anthony can't swim! He is also scared of spiders. Grace can swim! She is also scared of spiders.