Andrew Liptak

This is Megan.

We met in 2009 at Norwich, where we were classmates in the Military History program. During the our residency week in June, we met, found that we had a lot in common and began to date. She left, then she drove back up to Vermont. I drove down to Pennsylvania. She came back up, and I spent the New Year’s with her, and drove down again a week later after her father passed away to be with her during the funeral. We talked every night on the phone, even when we had nothing to say. I gave her books, and she surprised me with cards in my mail box.

In May, I somehow convinced her to move up to Vermont, where she worked at Residency with me for a couple of weeks. We drove to work together, and then she found a job working at a school nearby. Her parents visited us over the summer, and we stopped by my parents house to visit my family’s dog, Fionna (and my parents). My dad pulled me aside during one visit, and told me that while he didn’t know what my plans were, she wasn’t someone to let go. I agreed.

Megan moved in, prompting a flutter of change and movement around my life. My apartment was rearranged, our floors are groaning under the weight of our combined bookshelves. I’ve learned to cook for two people, and we take walks up and down the street or around the city every night. We rent movies together and surprise one another with a hug or a kiss when the other isn’t expecting it. We’ve gone swimming in the local rivers nearby and we drive up to Burlington on a whim for Christmas shopping or a movie when the mood strikes us.

I’ve never, ever been as happy as I’ve been since she entered my life a year and a half ago.

I’ve asked her to marry me. She said yes.