About Our Love
Hopefully, you already kinda knew this stuff.
The Origin Story
It all began during our senior year of high school.
(As told by Aimee)
We both were huge music nerds—There's Ben, the casual Kenny G of Long Island with his sultry saxophone skills, and then there's Aimee, barely scraping by on euphonium, a.k.a. the miniature tuba. But we both ended up as officers of Commack High School's Tri-M Music Honor Society. Aimee performed horrendously as secretary and mostly ran for the resume bonus, and Ben, as a mathlete and generally organized person, was a natural fit for vice president.
Jump-cut to the weeks leading up to Halloween. Ben and Aimee were paired together by the club's advisor to teach the music honor society's chorus how to sing "The Monster Mash." That's when the sparks really began to fly. And by sparks, we mean passive-aggressive digs as we discovered the other person's perfectionism. But as the days went by, Aimee started to wonder why she impulsively kept inviting Ben to group hangs. Over a mug of watery hot cocoa (loaded with way too much whipped cream) one night, a friend put it simply. "You like Ben." "What? No, I don't."
Halloween came. Our halls were inundated with Marvel superheroes, cool pop culture references, and those silly t-shirts that say "This is my costume." Ah, the early 2000s. Ben was a werewolf. He was also Abraham Lincoln, at the same time. That's right—he dressed up as a werewolf-stricken version of our 16th President. Top hat, black suit, tie, claws, and a snout. "You know, WereLincoln," he said. This creative genius walked Aimee to homeroom, and it was during that stroll that she knew something interesting was happening between them.
A week later, Aimee was performing in our school's production of Hamlet, portraying Ophelia. When the show ended, she ran backstage after final bows. She greeted her family and friends, and then she saw Ben. He was standing, alone, at the end of the hall, clutching two dozen white roses. Aimee’s mom called it then and there. "That boy is in love with you." Three days later, on November 11th, 2008, Ben asked Aimee to be his girlfriend. She obviously said yes, or else this wedding wouldn’t exist.
And don’t worry—our first dance song will not be “The Monster Mash.”
The Proposal
(Also as told by Aimee)
Our story continues in Oahu, Hawaii. Ben surprised Aimee on Christmas with tickets to Honolulu for the following April, and Aimee knew right then that we'd get engaged on that trip. Maybe it was a hunch, and maybe it was because she designed the ring, we bought it together, and Ben picked it up in November. Aimee only loves surprises when they’re personally curated. By her.
On a beautiful, but excessively sweaty, hike, we reached the tippity top, and took in the view of mountaintops and blue skies. "Cool, let's turn around," Aimee says, but Ben stops her. "Wait! Would you like something now?" Aimee knew what the "something" was, but she also knew that she looked like a sweat-soaked meatball with sausage fingers swollen from the humidity. That size 5.25 sucker wasn't going to slide onto her puffy cheez-doodle digit even if we used Crisco. So, she said no. We had booked a catamaran cruise at sunset, and thus, Aimee “politely” suggested that Ben give her the "something" then.
Let’s fast-forward to the boat, which was a booze cruise. Aimee anxiously awaited our moment, but we got totally carried away with chatting with another couple that happened to be from Seattle. A great conversation and a few mai tais later, and the ship was about to dock. Ben sprung into action, asking the couple to take our photo. "It's a very important photo," Ben said as he leaned in. He got on a knee, did the thing, and the entire watercraft full of tipsy tourists cheered as the sun plunged below the Waikiki horizon. One very sloppy emotional woman snapped some more photos for us, and then we celebrated with cheeseburgers from a truck followed by karaoke. And the couple from the boat? We're still friends to this day—introduce yourself to them at the wedding.