We spent the better part of a decade in New York City frequenting the same coffee shops, dancing at the same bars like Bowery Electric and Phebes, and searching for the best chocolate chip cookie. But we never managed to run into each other. 
 
Unlike the Hallmark love stories that Katie enjoys watching during Christmas, ours was not as conveniently scripted. In the end, all it took was two swipes to the right for us to find each other. 
 
Our first date was at Lelabar in the West Village, where we connected over our shared interests and times where we could have crossed paths. The next few dates celebrated these interests: strolling the Whitney, sampling cookies at Maman, attending a Stephen Sanchez concert, laughing it up at the Stand, and trying a variety of omakase.
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Fast forward two years and our worlds had expanded. We discovered our love for traveling together, exploring Tahoe, London, Barcelona, Madrid, Rio, and Tuscany. We introduced each other to our friends and soon enough we both had made such wonderful, new friendships. Most importantly, we had become each other’s go-to person, navigating life’s twists and turns hand in hand. 
 
On a sunny October morning in the Catskills, we went for a walk around a trail lined by tall pines and weeping willows. We laughed at each other’s jokes and sang the wrong lyrics to a song. It could have been any ordinary morning. But on that day, Nick found a quiet spot, knelt down on one knee, and asked Katie to be his wife.