Lillian and I met in our freshman year via the one and only Truman State University Campus Christian Fellowship (TSUCCF (CCF) --> kuhkuhfuh, if you know, you know). It was love(ly friendship) at first sight, something which I'm glad we were able to intentionally cultivate before we started dating. We look fondly back on those days spent with the best community on God's green earth. Friday evenings at the I-House, post-Wednesday night service meanderings, and spring break volunteer trips were spent dexterously flirting in each other's company while attempting to conceal our respective attractions. I remember all too well the only girl who actually still teased me without letting me know she was "just kidding." But there was a reason she came up in so many inane conversations with my friends: Lillian stood out from the crowd. She was beautiful, intelligent, well-spoken, and always of good cheer -- I knew that she was too good to pass up on, and that I had to pluck up the courage to ask her out somehow, or else regret it for the rest of my life.

As unfortunate as it is, our story is not one that can be told without invoking the mighty and terrible COVID-19, as it has existed entirely within the timeline of the pandemic. But I can't be too hard on old Corona, for even as it separated us in the spring of our Junior year, it also created a sense of urgency in myself to speak the truth of my feelings. What if we didn't go back to school in person at all? What if Lillian never came back to Kirksville? What if this was the zombie apocalypse I had always feared?

And so, in the summer of 2020, when Lillian came to visit Kirksville, I invited her over to my home for some Chicken Tikka Masala (using a recipe from a family friend, not a jar -- (shame on you for thinking that)) and we had a lovely first date. It was followed the next day by a viewing of My Neighbor Totoro (Ghibli fans, you are represented in this romance), a favorite of mine that I was all too happy to share with the girl of my dreams.

Fast forwarding a bit here, but after a blissful senior year together at Truman, in which most days were spent in each other's company, the reality of our continuing relationship dawned on us. Though I was convinced at the time that I wanted to marry Lillian, we both knew it would take more time for us to be truly ready. The unfortunate side of that is that we would have to endure a grueling 15 months (at the time of writing) of long distance -- we still have six and a half to go. Ours is a story of long spans apart, marked by brief, joyful spells in each other's presence. I do not know if we would have been able to make it this far without the constant support of our friends and family, as well as many a video call, Netflix party, and online gaming session. Though it certainly hasn't been easy, I wouldn't want to do it with anyone else. We are excited beyond words for the July of 2023 when we can start the rest of our lives together, and never have to be apart for this long again!

I don't really remember the first time Avery and I met. In fact, I'm not sure we've ever been officially introduced. Since the beginning of college at TSU, our paths were always circling around one another, close, sometimes even crossing. Like nights talking at i-house events where Avery asked curious questions about my day and listened intently, the loud rooms and passersby never deterring him from his focus on our conversations. And always remembering small details I had shared with him from the last time we spoke (this always amazed me, because I think I learned that Avery spoke Japanese three or four times and was surprised as well as impressed each time). Or frigid evenings, bumping into one another on campus, Avery sweetly noting that he saw me from all the way "over there" because my blonde hair and two-toned coat (pictured above) stood out from the grey winter sky. Or the afternoon I thought, "I better stop flirting with this boy or I'll make him fall in love with me, and his girlfriend is sitting right there."

Those early years at Truman, Avery was always someone I admired and respected, but, for whatever reason, never allowed myself to get close to. But then, in the spring of our third year, something clicked. All those moments we had shared together started aligning: the easy conversation, quick jokes, and clear compassion. The moment I looked at Avery and allowed myself to just consider the possibility, I fell. And I fell fast.

That didn't mean that the beginning of our relationship was easy. I avoided commitment like the plague (or the pandemic). The connection we had scared me; it was electric, smooth like butter, and soft. I think somewhere in the back of my heart, I knew that if I committed to this man, I was going to marry him.

I guess it's apparent now, but I committed. The next months were spent in relative isolation from the rest of the world; the pandemic was at its height and there wasn't anywhere to go or much of anything to do. We finished movie marathons and all 425 canon episodes of Naruto. We ate a lot of pizza and opened a Chinese dumpling shop for two one November night. We took walks in the snow, in the morning, in the evening, at golden hour. Those long pandemic days gave us a lot of time together, talking for hours. The more I learned about Avery, his heart and his mind, the deeper I feel in love.

The winter turned to spring and a May graduation was upon us. Like every couple that meets in college, we had a decision; Avery and I chose long distance. I care not to dwell on this time long. A quarter of a mile turned into 300 miles over night which turned into 440 miles that briefly and blissfully turned into 130 miles. It was during this time period that Avery prepared a beautiful candlelit dinner and proposed to me in a courtyard surrounded by the fragrance of late summer flowers. And then half my heart was torn from me as the distance grew to 6,400 miles. While long distance has matured, strengthened, and confirmed our relationship, the time when we do not have to spend another day apart cannot come quick enough. Avery and I are beyond excited to spend the rest of our lives together.