A swipe right
“A swipe right, a match. A first date at the Archive. A walk through Bryant Park. Waiting for me on NYC corners. An invite to a Pitt Bar. Late nights on your roof in the summer. Snow fights on your deck in the winter. Yes, Netflix. Blink and Bayside jam sessions. A trip to Jamaica. A broken arm followed by nurse duty with your mom and dad. A lay-off and a medical scare, and you showing up at my door just 20 minutes after I break both of these things to you. Incredible Sunday Tatti dinners, equally as incredible breakfasts at IHOP. Stone street. Paris cafe. Minetta Tavern. Lots of sweet potato fries. Your first wedding, my first bar-mitzvah. Secret notes, surprise desserts just for me. Raviolis from the Bronx and cheese bread from Breads. A TON of HGTV, Food Network, and that show on Discovery about scary sea creatures. Sometimes I just think to myself, “I can’t believe I get to be this dude’s lady.” It’s been 3 years and you still make me feel like Hillary Duff in “A Cinderella Story” every single day. The most kind, compassionate, and scrappy man I know (guys, one time he blowtorched my sister’s spaghetti during a power outage — to perfection!) You’ve been there for me on my darkest (and stinkiest) days. I love you not just because you have a handsome mug, but because you know everything about me - good and bad - and love me just the same. You’re also the most dependable guy I know - from making me laugh on the reg to holding me during a panic attack. You do it all. This city has chewed me up and spit me out so many times, but I faithfully pay my dues because it gave me you.”