Most people believe a chance encounter in a fraternity basement leads to anything but a permanent attachment. But when Tim and I met our freshman year of college, on a very dark dance floor very late at night, we sparked something special. Throughout college we were good friends, at times more and at times less. Tim would often visit Washington, D.C. (my hometown) for work and play, and grew close with my community of friends and family in the city. Our friendship was so easy and eventually, I couldn’t leave his side; he felt like home. At the turn of 2009, we toasted to a romance and fell in love soon after.

Tim’s best quality is his childlike enthusiasm. This zest for life, however, doesn’t marry well with surprise. While I saw the proposal coming, I did not imagine the sweetness of the sentiment. Last summer I was on the road constantly for work while behind the scenes, Tim was planning a celebratory trip to Jamaica. I was instructed to pack my bags, but I wasn’t sure where we were going. Part of me believed a ring might board the flight with us but to count one’s chickens can be quite dangerous. The night before our departure, the District was thick with summer heat. We walked to our favorite French bistro; the air conditioning had broken but we laughed anyway. We trotted home and Tim opened the door to our apartment, outfitted with candles. It was our first night in our nest as new homeowners and Tim wanted our home to be filled with love. He proposed right then and there, we only told our parents, and flew off to Jamaica to celebrate wonderful years to come.