Samson and I first met when he accompanied his father on a trip to Sacramento to visit my family. I was home for just five days between clinical rotations, and he had just quit his job, with a week off before starting his travel career.

Was it love at first sight? I’d like to think it was for him… but maybe for me as well. Funny story—I haven’t told anyone this—but when I first saw him, I was in my favorite Godzilla T-shirt and jeans. The moment I caught a glimpse of him in the dim hallway, I panicked, ran back to my room, and changed into something a little more presentable.

Turns out, I wasn’t the only one having a moment. Samson later admitted that when he first saw me, he completely froze—he couldn’t even find his voice to say hi and ended up stuttering instead.

That evening, he was kind and helpful, assisting us in setting up for dinner while we made small talk. The next day, my siblings and I had a Lake Tahoe trip planned, and on a whim, I jokingly asked him if he wanted to join. He just as jokingly said yes… and then, to everyone’s surprise, turned to his dad and said, “So long, Dad.” Just like that, he stayed the night with my family and committed to spending the weekend with a bunch of strangers.

The next morning, he rushed out to buy snow gear since, well, a Lake Tahoe trip wasn’t exactly on his itinerary. We took multiple cars, and my younger sisters—being the little matchmakers they are—concocted a secret plan to ensure Samson and I ended up in the same car… alone. Unfortunately for them (and fortunately for me), I had my little sisters ride with us as well. But they were suspiciously quiet the entire trip.

During the drive up to Lake Tahoe, we bonded over our shared love for The Lord of the Rings and our mutual disappointment in the final season of Game of Thrones. Samson was shocked that I had actually read the LOTR books, and I scored major brownie points by bringing up Tom Bombadil.

Despite this, we didn’t spend much time together. Since I was home for such a short time, I wanted to be with my nieces and nephews. Samson ended up heading back to Sacramento early with my brother, while I stayed behind with my other siblings. When we said goodbye, I figured that was it—I’d probably never see him again.

But fate had other plans. The next evening, when I returned home, I was surprised to find that my parents had invited him and his father over for dinner again.

After the weekend, he sent a message to the family, thanking us for having him, and that’s when we started texting each other directly.

We started communicating exclusively through Lord of the Rings memes. Somewhere between a perfectly timed Samwise Gamgee “Po-ta-toes” reference and a dramatic Smeagol “My precious” moment, I casually mentioned that in two days, I’d be flying to Houston to pick up my car and drive it to New York for my next clinical rotation—alone. And, as a joke, I asked if he wanted to keep me company. And, once again, jokingly… he said yes.

Since he had just quit his job and still had time off, he flew back to Portland with his father that night, only to catch the first flight out to Houston the next morning. Coincidentally, we were both flying Southwest with connecting flights in Las Vegas, so we met there and flew to Houston together.

Samson knew how much I loved the outdoors, and when we got to Houston, the very first gift he ever gave me was a can of bear spray and an outdoor knife—because he wanted me to be safe.

That road trip was three days of laughter and non-stop conversation. On the first day, we stopped for lunch in New Orleans, where we wandered through a farmers market and found a booth selling LEGO figurines. I told Samson I wanted to buy him one as a thank-you for coming on this trip with me. He agreed—on one condition. I had to guess the one he wanted.

I pointed to Wolverine. Not because I knew, but because that’s the one I would have wanted. Samson burst out laughing—because that was exactly the one he had his eye on.

After New Orleans, we made our way to the Great Smoky Mountains, where, on the second day, we went on a nine-mile hike together. During this hike, as Samson was taking my picture, I stepped onto a rock, slipped, and landed hard on my butt. Before I could regain my balance, I started sliding—straight toward the edge of a cliff that dropped into a fast-moving river below.

By sheer luck (or maybe adrenaline-fueled reflexes), I managed to stop myself just in time. My legs were dangling over the ledge, my butt wedged into the last little dip of rock keeping me from going over. Samson probably saw his life flash before his eyes. But apparently, that wasn’t the only memorable moment of the hike.

At one point, while I was busy taking pictures and videos of the trail, Samson wandered off. When I finally spotted him, he was off-trail, balancing on a log that stretched over the river. Without a second thought, I followed—because, honestly, it looked fun. Later, he told me that was the moment everything clicked for him. He hadn’t expected me to follow. He didn’t think I was that adventurous. But when I did, that was it—he knew I was someone special.

After surviving the Smokies, we spent the third day having lunch with Samson’s cousin and her family in D.C. before finally reaching New York. We barely listened to music because we were too busy talking the entire time. After spending the night in New York, I dropped him off at the airport the next day. And that should have been the end of it. But it wasn’t.

Samson finished his contract in Oregon and then moved to New York to be with me for the rest of my clinical rotation. Since then, we’ve gone on countless hikes and road trips together, exploring mountains, national parks, and new cities.

And just like that first road trip, we still talk as much as ever—sometimes going hours without music because we’re too busy lost in conversation. We always joke about how Jon Snow has his Sam and Frodo has his Sam. And now… I have my Sam. Clearly, history has proven that every great journey, every great adventure, needs one.

And that’s our story—how two people joked their way into spending more time together until those jokes became promises… and those promises became forever.