Mel's Version: When I walked into Jurisdiction & Choice of Law in August 2017, I wasn't looking for new friends.  It was time to scale back.  But Johannah walked into the classroom, and I was immediately drawn.  So much so that I got up from my seat, followed her to the middle of the room, and reassigned myself the spot next to her. Over the next few weeks, I noticed that Johannah's notes consisted of loose papers, half typed, half handwritten, always falling out of her three-ringed binder.  Intellectual chaos. So I invited her over to study. But when Johannah invited me to her birthday party two weeks later, I knew something had gone astray.  Like I said, I wasn't looking for new friends. And because I was unwilling to take the risk that our academic alliance might turn into a friendship, I declined. I stayed home and read that night instead. The problem, though, was that Johannah was (and is) thoughtful and hilarious and sarcastic and brilliant and beautiful.  I didn't have class on Mondays, but I started coming to campus--just to pass her in the hallways.  I didn't like staying up past 9pm--but I started drinking caffeine after dinner, just to text her late into the night.  And I wasn't competing in the moot court competition, but I memorized the law in my free time--just so I could hang around as Johannah prepared. By the time law school graduation rolled around, I knew Johannah was my person. Johannah has taught me everything I know about love. Staying up late with boardgames sprawled between us. Hiking. Wandering the farmers' markets for cilantro that smells right. Watching just one more episode of Survivor. Hanging pictures in our house. Cooking in matching aprons. Eating. Talking. Holding each other. Marrying Johannah is the greatest privilege I could ask for. I can't wait to celebrate with you all.

Johannah's Version: Before I knew Mel at all, I knew that Mel was not like most people. Most people would leave strangers undisturbed as they scurried to finish their readings before class. Mel instead plopped down next to me and asked about course selection. Most people would avoid interfering with a stranger's personal dating life. Mel instead discovered that I was going to dinner with someone she knew and suggested (over facebook messenger...) that it would be a bad fit. By 2017, when Mel got up from her group of friends; walked across the room; and sat next to me in jurisdiction, I knew that I should expect the unexpected. Still, Mel surprised me at every turn. When I concocted reasons for why I needed to skip study group, Mel would lure me over with candy and kindly pretend that she was just as confused about the cases as I was. And when Mel uncovered my weeknight study routine on the bottom floor of the law library, she broke her no-studying-after-dinner rule to sneak me late night study treats. (This was, of course, as kind as it was insulting--reminding me that Mel could do twice as well as me in all of our classes by studying half as hard...). Mel was distracting in all of the best ways. Brainy, beautiful, and the epitome of thoughtfulness. But also sneaky, sly, and irreverent. I couldn't get enough. By the following spring, we were inseparable. One day, we met up at 7:30 a.m. to grab coffee before volunteering at a law school event. As the hours passed, we found one reason after another for why it wasn't yet time to go home. We *needed* to get lunch, then study, then get dinner, then watch 2 hours of This is Life with Lisa Ling. By the time we parted ways 14 hours later, I only had one thought: I wonder if we can spend even more time together tomorrow. Six years later, I'm still trying to pack more Mel hours into the day. Mel fills every minute with adventure when we're looking for it, and holds the world steady when we're not. She charms me, challenges me, teaches me, and (somehow) still tells me not to yell in the library. I have a sneaking suspicion that a lifetime together will still feel too short. But it's a good start. Thank you for helping us celebrate!