"Andrew"

Everyone loves a good love story. I’m convinced even the people that say they don’t like love stories, secretly kind of dig them. It’s like hearing an old Jonas Brothers song- we may feel like the cheese factor is beneath our level of “cool”, but when no one’s around, the beat hits you just right and your head bobs without warning.

This isn’t just a tale of romance, it’s a reminder to store in your back pocket. A momento to confirm that what you want is not out of your reach, if only you trust the timing and the sneaky ways of the Universe.

Okay, so I never had good luck dating. I didn’t like to date. My eyes would twitch at the sound of the word. I didn’t have the best track record for being involved with men who really cared about who I was to the core, certainly not anyone who made me feel like I could completely be myself.

I maintained a very single status after one of these unhealthy relationships and spent two years focusing on discovering myself and what I wanted, an experience I am truly grateful I stuck with.

The season, although remarkably beneficial, had outgrown me. I no longer required the solitude that once served me so well.

So, I got on Tinder.

Alright. I know what you’re thinking, so before you elevate your brow- let me tell you why.

My friends and family were convinced that I’d find someone out there. I protested otherwise.

You see, I was looking for something very, very, very meaningful… not just a “you up” text at 2 a.m. (Boy, bye). I had been told that my ideals of a soulmate were far-fetched, that my standards (even though they were not superficial) were a little bit high. I was encouraged to lower the bar (and to go to the bar, for that matter).

Needless to say (so why am I saying it?), my peers were persistent, and I agreed to try.

To me, “try” meant “prove them all wrong and write about my experience later”, (you think I’m joking but I was already mapping out the first draft in my head when I downloaded the app).

Anyway, it didn’t go so well for a week or so, it went as expected… until it didn’t.

I recall it was the day of the eclipse that I had a moment in which I will always look back in wonder. People everywhere had stopped their daily lives and stepped outside to look in awe at the same sky. It was absolutely phenomenal to witness. Something inside of me stirred and that evening, I had a scathing… and might I add- desperate, talk with the big guy upstairs.

I had a lot of questions for God, so I asked him. These inquiries held a lot of resentment and hurt. For 27 years on this planet, I had held out hope that my “soulmate” was out there, and I hadn’t wavered in my faith. Now I stood, completely depleted of hope in anything I once believed. My questions were harsh, callous, and abrasive. I spoke to God in an unfiltered way that probably wouldn’t be recommended or approved by anyone with a Doctorate in Divinity.

I cried, I yelled, and eventually, out of pure exhaustion- I slept.

The next morning all hell broke loose in Houston. Hurricane Harvey was moseying on in and everyone was either prepping or ignoring the warnings altogether, because what’s a little rain ever done to us before? (Little did we know, am I right?)

I was at work, not really working when I saw the notification. Honestly, I had nearly impaired my vision with the eye-rolls I had given previous Tinder messages, so I didn’t have high hopes for whoever “Andrew” was.

This is another moment that I often look back on.

If I had went with my normal reaction (ignore generic messages and carry on about my day), I wouldn’t be here sharing this with you today.

But, as fate would have it, (and for God only knows what reason, because it escapes the hell out of me) I responded to “Andrew”’s message.

It was pretty basic if I’m being honest, and he would agree with that statement. I even chuckled as I responded, tossed my phone aside and went back to check on the state of the calamity spinning in the world around me.

The day carried on, and as chaos ensued, I noticed “Andrew” had replied.

The message was thoughtful. The words were kind and genuine, immediately catching my attention. The conversation continued.

In the unnerving cyclone of packing up my apartment, grabbing my pup, cramming into busy stores, and finally heading to my parents’ house, we talked. What gripped me the most is the length of the messages, they were nearly novels.

The weather got worse and situations became more dire, yet I found myself beaming at my phone for days.

My beloved city was practically underwater, I was drinking Tennessee Honey at questionable hours of the day and crying every time I turned on the news, but I clung to how magical it felt conversing with “Andrew”.

For weeks, we were unable to meet. All Houstonians were essentially stuck. Not pandemic stuck, but physically unable to leave our streets (if we were lucky enough to still have our homes). Even when we could venture out, it was to gather necessities, donate or head to whatever business was “open” to gather as a community.

This situation gave “Andrew” and I a lot of time to get to know each other. What may have been the magic ingredient of this story is the amount of hours we were forced to dive a little deeper.



We finally met at Discovery Green, and if you ask anyone who was with me before I went- I was a complete and total nervous wreck. I almost didn’t want to go (that’s usually my intuition’s way of telling me that I’m about to do something very important).

When I first set eyes on Andrew (no quotations)- I felt as if I had seen him before. (Not from photos, but more of an instinctive feeling). We had an evening picnic and at the end of the night, he pulled out a book and presented it to me as a late birthday present.

The book was Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl, and the rest- as they say, is history.


I knew before I even met Andrew that he was the one. Seriously, I even told one of my friends that statement weeks before we met. It sounds crazy, but I knew.

Andrew treats me like I am a whole person, flaws, ugliness and all. I don’t have a single part of myself that I feel I must hide from him. He’s miraculous in all the ways I never thought a person could be outside of my imagination. He loves me like no one has ever even tried. He is the epitome of everything I have ever wanted, needed and so very much more. I don’t even tell him this enough, so for you Andrew, I’m sorry for that, but you truly are all of these things. Even being stuck with each other 24/7 can’t uproot us.

Essentially this telling is one of great gratitude. I’m tearing up as I type this because I just want everyone to remember to never lose faith.

It’s okay to question the God you worship, the Universe, or whatever power you find comfort in. It’s okay to yell, cry, get angry, and be unapologetic and authentic in speaking of your heart’s desires.

Whatever you seek is also seeking you.

It just may take you a few years, some tears, and an outburst to your creator to find it.