I like to say we really met sophomore year of college. I always thought she was cute, quiet, smelled amazing, and swore she had a French accent. Yet, it was on her birthday, after a long night of partying, as I watched her braid her friends' hair while feeding them crackers and water, that I became obsessed. She loved Frank Ocean, so I memorized his whole discography; she thought bearded dragons were cute, so I had them as my screensaver; She said Yu-Gi-Oh was cool, so I rewatched every episode; she valued studying, so I always had a problem set to "work on" when I came by. Likewise, she stayed through the weird artsy movies I put on, laughed at my corny jokes, and would always wait until I left the Cascadilla Hall common room for the night before she left too. I told her I'd marry her, but she didn't take me seriously. I remember poring over the best way to confess my feelings, practicing my words in the shower. The night finally came in November. I walked her to her room and right before she went inside, I stopped her. She waited, her bewilderment met with silence. In a rushed attempt to break that silence, I lurched forward and gave her a very long hug, further extending that awkward encounter. Then, I went for the most embarrassing first kiss ever. In shock, she pushed me away. Frantically, I sprinted back to my dorm room mortified. In a last ditch attempt to salvage ANY dignity, I shot her a text: "Yo, still up?" Minutes graduated into eternity as I ached for those seven angels to finally decide to sound their trumpets. Thankfully, the distinct buzz from my phone snapped me out of my catatonia, and I zeroed in on the sender -- "Juju ❤️". And I have loved her ever since.
Jib and I "met" our freshman year at Cornell. I say "met" because I made a quick group of friends - and he just happened to always be around. He's always fascinated me, one because of his good looks, but two because of his pure heart. If someone was too incapacitated, I had no doubt I could call on Jib to carry them home. So I developed a crush. And that crush grew Fall of sophomore year. Jib has a way of making you feel special and, for reasons unknown to me then, I was blessed to have his undivided attention that semester. From August to November 2015, he followed me around. As I sat in the common room of Cascadilla Hall day after day trying to make it through Organic Chemistry, Jib sat besides me, shoulder to shoulder, from 7 PM to 2 AM, pretending to learn Discrete Structures. I relished every moment. We shared our love for Yuna, our immigrant backgrounds, and the desire to graduate. Then one day he told me, "I spoke to my advisor about my two goals today." "What were they?" I asked. "Well," he lingered, "my short-term goal is to pass Discrete Structures." My pulse quickened, having an idea of what I wanted to hear, fearing the disappointment that could come from longing for it. "And my long-term goal is to marry you." A lot happened in between: Kiss-gate, a "you up?" text, and the trials of the 20 somethings. He has climbed the hills of downtown Ithaca to get me medicine in the dead of night and yea...I did an assignment or two for him when he was...preoccupied. We have cried together, celebrated, fought and made up, but most importantly, we've grown alongside each other. He's my favorite movie binging buddy, my happy hour comrade, my enjoyment accomplice. From London to Tokyo, I couldn't have asked for a better partner. To my one and only, my future husband, I can't wait to do infinity with you. To our family and friends, I so look forward to celebrating with you all. Bring your dancing shoes and let us fill your cups as you have filled ours!