June and I met at DePaul–where neither of us graduated from–so our love is truly kismet.

Mairead was our first mutual connection; she was my big and June’s Chicago Quarter Mentor, and the person who told us about one another. Over and over, I heard that I would “really like this person,” but something kept me away. Maybe it was anxiety, maybe it was that the universe knew it wasn’t time for us yet, but I never got too close.

Of course, I would go out of my way to stop in the student center when I knew June would be there, or I’d try to figure out where she was at certain times just so I could walk by. Even at 18, I had a feeling that once I knew June, I’d never be able to let her go.

For years, we watched each other at a distance: through social media, accidentally running into each other on campus or at Greek life events. I would check in on her through social media fairly regularly–so much so that the algorithms eventually started sending her posts to the top of my feeds.

On Thanksgiving in 2021, I finally decided that I’d had enough of experiencing June at an arm’s length. I saw that she had posted a picture of her makeup on her instagram story, so I complimented her on it. I spent the rest of the day–and the week–glued to my phone, waiting for her responses. Now, I spend my days waiting to go home to her.

My favorite part of the first day talking to her was when she told me that she’d had “a friend crush” on me for a long time; clearly, we’re very good friends now.

story

About two weeks into dating, June had--partially jokingly--requested proposal by sword. As someone who commits to the bit, I spent months looking for the perfect sword for the love of my life.

Sitting on the couch, watching a silly kid's movie, and crocheting: a typical Sunday for us. June had just gotten back from a long weekend in LA, visiting Hannah to see their senior sermon for rabbinical school. After a very emotional few months, we were talking about life's ups and downs, and I realized that I didn't want to experience anything in life without June by my side.

I had jokingly asked June many times before if "now was the time I was really going to ask," but since marriage was a common topic, she never expected much.

Something about that Sunday felt different; I'm not sure if it was because we had been apart for a few days or if it was something else entirely, but when I turned to ask June if it was time for me to propose, I wasn't joking.

I paused our movie, ran to my closet, and grabbed the sword I had been hiding to ask June to marry me.

Everything about our moment was absolutely perfect; it was quiet, and it was us in our truest forms.