We met on Hinge while I was back in SF after taking care of my grandmother. I was supposed to move to London. I bailed on our first date, then, feeling guilty, invited him over the next day to bake a cake. He showed up, paid for the ingredients, and we spent hours talking and baking like it was the most normal thing in the world. It wasn’t some big moment, but rather it felt like home. He didn’t ask me to stay in SF —I just knew I’d regret it if I moved without giving this a chance.

For our first Valentine’s, I took Evan to see his favorite DJ—even though I don’t love robot music. We showed up in bucket hats and face gems, dancing for hours. At one point, we started miming making a giant invisible pizza—mixing, seasoning, tossing it in the oven, slicing it up. We were completely in sync. No words, just instinct. The beat dropped as we fake-ate our slices, laughing and dancing like idiots. It was love in its weirdest, purest form.

This may sound boring, but we’d invest most of it. We’re building a life together, and starting strong now means more laughter, freedom, and joy in the future. That said—we’d 100% take part of it for a trip to Korea, where Evan’s family is from. It would be a chance for us both to connect with his culture, explore the history, and share a beautiful adventure that deepens who we are—together.