Long Beach, California. That’s where Maria and I met—right after a Jehovah’s Witness convention. A mutual friend invited me to join a group for dinner, and in that group was a quiet, meek, yet incredibly cute girl. She barely spoke, fading into the laughter and chatter around us. We shook hands at the end of the night and went our separate ways.

Somehow, we added each other on Facebook and started liking each other’s self-portraits. Little did I know, she shared my love for photography. That became our first connection. We began chatting over Messenger—talking about photography, music, and anything that came to mind. From the start, we knew we had feelings for each other, but we were patient, cherishing our friendship as much as possible. After all, she lived in Anaheim, and I was in Escondido.

A year passed. Then, we finally took the leap and admitted what we both already knew—we were in love. Our dates became photo collaborations, creative projects, social gatherings, sightseeing adventures. Over time, I watched how Maria carried herself with my friends and family, and I realized—this is no girl, this is a woman.

One month into dating, I bought the ring. I knew exactly what I had found—the love of my life.

I originally planned a surprise proposal, but I completely botched it. So, I told myself, I’ll propose when the moment is right. And that moment didn’t take long to arrive.

One evening, Maria had picked up my mom from her shift in Fullerton and drove her to Escondido, where we lived. As she stepped out of the car, the sun was setting behind her. The light hit her in a way that made my heart race. Right then, I ran inside, grabbed the ring, sprinted back outside, and dropped to one knee.

She said yes!

And just like that, our adventure began...