It started with a bad idea for a tattoo.

Kristina and Lowen met at a Rubens exhibit, surrounded by leopards, drunken satyrs, and the glare of Medusa. We each came with friends, to a cocktail mixer at San Francisco’s Legion of Honor.

Kristina and her girlfriend were the only ones dancing. Trying to impress, Lowen boasted if he ever got a tattoo, he’d print “Gotterdammerung” on his arm. It was a bluff. He knew it was a German opera, little else.

“It means—”

“—Twilight of the Gods?” Kristina laughed, and rolled her eyes. She had not only seen that opera, but the entire 15-hour Ring Cycle, four times. Wagner’s a little bro-y. Anyway, Siegfried’s magic sword, or Brunhilda riding into the flames would be cooler.

That lit the spark. Our first date was a week later, with drinks and a little dancing. Kristina picked a spot with a jazz trio. Trying to impress, she plucked the orchid garnish from her Tom Collins and ate it. “They’re edible you know!” Lowen assumed she was hungry and ordered a raft of appetizers.

The summer of 2019, we got to know each other, over dim sum, on hikes across the Marin Headlands, at the Exploratorium, Shakespeare in the Park, Friday night food trucks, and a Mitski concert in the trees.

We fell in love effortlessly, and by Christmas, we knew this was real. The effort came later, when we moved in together during the confusion of COVID, stockpiled dry goods, and tried sharing a home office.

In those cloistered months, we took long walks into the Oakland Hills, pointing out our favorite gardens and dodging feral turkeys. We made long drives up the coast to visit family in Snohomish. Kristina taught Lowen the joy of car snacks, and Lowen told her “keep your head on a swivel,” making Baumgartenish detours to jam farms and the Oregon Dunes.

Right across the street, we found our favorite piano bar, and last year the whole place cheered when Kristina sang a jazzy number, and Lowen popped up behind her with a ring.

We’ve shared some sorrows, belted out karaoke tunes, cooked many meals together, danced in the kitchen, supported one another, never haggled much over chores, and been the other’s date to a few weddings. Now it’s our turn! We both still have no tattoos.