Our New York love story began with a serendipitous first date in 2019. After a mutual introduction, we agreed to meet on a warm summer night in West Village. Little did Akshita know, but I had spent the majority of the day at a “paint and sip”, mostly involving Chinese liquor and painting a friend’s apartment. Akshita was debating even going out after a grueling year in investment banking, but decided to take a chance. We met at a dark lounge and cozied up with small bites. The conversation flowed effortlessly about childhood memories and esoteric business concepts. Something clicked as we chatted the night away. Despite paint spots still lingering on my ears, Akshita still agreed to see me again.

During our early courting over Sichuan dinners and long walks, it became clear that this was blossoming into something more. Apoorv made me laugh with his sarcsasm and adventurous spirit, introducing me to hidden city gems while making the mundane hilarious with his wit. But he also seemed destined for anywhere but here - with outrageous potential moves to Hong Kong or San Francisco. I didn’t want to let this go so one evening as we were walking home from dinner, I blurted out “will you be my boyfriend?” He chuckled at my abruptness, then said “of course,” without hesitation. But our relationship was put to the test when, ironically enough, I moved to Boston for a new job. After weathering the storm of the pandemic together in New York, we suddenly faced the challenges of long distance. But absence only made our bond grow stronger. We planned trips to visit each other’s new homes and explore exotic destinations, finding creative ways to share experiences despite the miles between. We pushed each other to try new things like skiing, cricket guacamole in Mexico, and running our first long-distance races. Though limited in time, we cherished each moment and adventure we shared during this chapter of growth. The distance deepened our appreciation for one another.

I had spent my 20s staunchly opposed to marriage, wary of the statistics and painful divorces I’d witnessed. And yet there I was, racing on my third Amtrak in months to visit Akshita in Boston. After a raucous karaoke night out, we barely caught the train home the next day. Halfway into the ride, illness washed over me. Despite her own fatigue, Akshita selflessly cared for me - monitoring my temperature, fetching water, whispering encouragement. By some miracle, we rallied for a special dinner in Brooklyn that night. In between sips of Burgundy, I sputtered out “should we get married?” Laughing, she brushed it aside. But two years later, we both knew it was right. My fears were assuaged by the enduring belief in love I saw in others. We ring-shopped together, then I planned a sunset proposal on a cliff overlooking the Pacific, far from our NYC home as she’d requested. Just like our first date, it took coaxing to get her ready. But at the perfect moment, smile beaming, I turned to her excitedly: “I have a question for you…” Akshita let loose her signature laugh, tears glinting in the sunset - no words needed.