A friend once told me to "marry a cheffy." I took that advice to heart and filtered through the apps, only looking for chefs, until I found Brandon.

I'm totally kidding.

The truth is, I met Brandon just as I was making plans to upend my life. I was considering a significant geographical move that would take me off Long Island so I could find something different, something new — and then I met Brandon through my new friend Dave, who talked about his best friend with such reverence I thought he must be too good to be true.

Too good, yes, but all true.

Through trips, dinners, weekends on the couch, countless texts and calls, I found the love of my life at the end of the island. And I'm so glad I did.

March 22, 2022. I get a text from my friend (and our wedding officiant) Dave, saying that this "new guy" that works at The Suffolk Times that was asking about me. I had shown up in his suggested friends on Facebook, and seeing that Dave was a mutual friend, he was asking if I was single. Not for long.

We started messaging each other and decided to meet up for drinks after work at the brewery in Peconic. Drinks turned into dinner, and he was brave enough to order pulled pork and cole slaw on what was technically our first date.

Two dates later, we make our way out to dinner and he suggests ordering the sweetbreads, because they "sounded good." Being a chef, I was impressed and thought "OK, this guy can hang." As some of you know, it didn't turn out to be a a basket of pastries, but rather veal pancreas. While surprised, Lee didn't back down and instead ate (and I think enjoyed?) them. This guy can definitely hang.

Two months later came our first "I love you"s. A year later, I got my last and best roommate, as Lee moved into my (now our) apartment in Greenport. Just shy of two years after that, I put a bracelet on it in one of his favorite spots up in Beacon, and now here we are — and there's nowhere else I'd rather be.