My name is Blaise, and this is the tale of how I met—and later proposed to—the love of my life, Brook Harter. It’s a story of love, chaos, and maybe a little bit of tragedy (but mostly love).

It was the summer of 2020. I was a young stud in the absolute prime of my life—confident, sunburnt, and ready for my annual camping trip with the boys. But this year, my best friend had the brilliant idea to “bring sand to the beach” and invite a couple of river rats along for the ride. I said, “Hey, that’s weird… but sure, why not?”

Fast forward to a weekend full of campfires, floating the river, questionable food cooked over open flames, and—unexpectedly—some serious chemistry. That’s when I met Brook. Somewhere between dodging bugs and sharing drinks by the fire, I started to feel a real connection. So, in a bold (and mildly terrified) moment, I asked her out. She thought I was kidding. I wasn’t.

Two weeks later, we had our first official date. I met her parents, turned on the charm, and wooed the absolute hell out of her. After that, she was hooked. She followed me around like a lost puppy—her words, not mine—and honestly, I didn’t mind one bit.

Eventually things got serious. About a year in, I couldn’t get her to leave my house (literally), so I asked her to move in. We’ve been partners in crime—and sometimes total pains in each other’s asses—ever since.

Somewhere along the way, we adopted our dog Benson, made a home, and built a life together full of laughter, love, and just the right amount of chaos. And now, we’re getting married.