Our story started long before we ever became “us.” We first met in high school and became friends, but as life often does, it eventually took us in different directions.

Years later, our paths crossed again at a local bar—and in probably the most us way possible. I had decided to use the men’s bathroom, and as I walked out, Cody was trying to walk in. Of all the romantic ways two people could reconnect, apparently that was ours. From that day forward, we were pretty much inseparable.

Over the years, we’ve built a life together. We moved in together, found new hobbies, traveled to new places, and met people along the way who became some of our closest friends. We’ve celebrated some of the best moments of our lives together and held onto each other through some of the hardest, including losing people we loved. Through every high, every low, and everything in between, we just kept choosing each other.

And then came Christmas 2025.

If you know us, you probably know that I had joked for years that Cody was going to keep me as his “girlfriend” until I was 90. So when he got down on one knee in our living room and asked, “Will you be my forever girlfriend?” it was perfectly Cody.

After getting his joke in, he became serious and finally asked the question I had been waiting so long to hear:

“Will you marry me?”

Of course, I said yes.

There was no elaborate setup or crowded room—just the two of us, in our home, surrounded by the life we had already built together. And somehow, that made it even more perfect.

Now here we are, planning our wedding and dreaming about everything still ahead of us.

Our love story may have started as two high school friends, and our second chance may have begun outside a men’s bathroom, but every unexpected turn brought us exactly where we were supposed to be.

And after all these years, I won't be his 90-year-old girlfriend after all.

I get to be his wife.