For some couples, it’s pretty straight forward. They meet, date for a bit, do the exclusive relationship thing for some time, then get engaged. But nobody is rushing to theaters to see that crap. Instead, Mel and I have a love story more like a romantic drama with multiple acts, twists, turns, pivotal side-characters, heartbreak, and glory. That’s right, this is gonna be longer than your typical "wedding website love story", so buckle up!

Mel and I actually met for the first time in my childhood home, 15 years ago. We were both so very young and innocent. DeAnna (my sister) and Mel had recently pledged Delta together, so they were stopping at the house on their way somewhere with a bunch of their sorority sisters. I’m not sure where they were headed. It doesn’t matter. Point is, Mel and I met for the first time that day. We didn’t talk. Just a, “Hi. Nice to meet ya”. Later, I remember asking my sis, “Hey, what’s up with the one with the locs?”. DeAnna saw the sincerity in my eyes, and said something like, “Ewww, stop playin’ boy”, and that was that.

Fast forward, 5 years later. It’s New Year's Eve, and we all happen to be attending the same party up in NYC. By this point, DeAnna was used to me playfully asking about Mel every now and then. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, Mel was secretly harboring similar crush energy. So, when Mel walked up and kissed me in the middle of that party, with everyone around us screaming “Happy New Year!”, I had an out of body experience. We agreed to meet up for brunch the next day.

Brunch the next day was special. We talked about everything there is to talk about in life for like 6 hours straight. I learned that Mel was doing a study abroad thing in Spain, and she learned that I had travel perks through DeAnna’s new job. Giddyup.

A few months later, Mel and I were kicking it in Barcelona. We visited art museums, ate great food, listened to music in underground hip-hop bars, got drunk on some disgusting licorice-flavored liquor called “Sambuca”, and took this one really sketchy midnight bus ride to some nightclub on a remote beach somewhere outside of town. We were Sambuca-wasted, dancing in the sand under the moonlight like a damn Jay Z and Beyonce video. Lord knows where we were. We could have died that night. Literally and figuratively. It was glorious. Oh, and we also went to Paris for a couple days. No big deal.

Here’s where the story begins to suck. Barcelona was epic. But, unfortunately, expectations had shifted for one of us. I won’t say who. That’s not important. Just know that this person was still figuring a lot of stuff out at the time. Also, he was an idiot.

Text histories were deleted. Instagrams were unfollowed. 5 years passed.

Then, one random (divine) weekend, DeAnna asked me if I’d be cool with giving Mel a ride to the airport on my way back up to New York. I didn’t even know she was in town. I was like “If she’s cool with that, yeah”. So, early that Sunday morning, Mel and I spent 30 mins catching up on each other’s lives on the way to the Philly airport. I learned that she was now living in New Orleans. I probably talked about how I had never been. The energy was chill. Neither of us made anything of it. I was just happy to be on good terms with her again.

2 years passed. No communicating. No nothin. Maybe the occasional sighting on one of DeAnna’s IG stories, but that’s it.

That was, until Weldon (my best man) unintentionally did something incredibly pivotal. A month away from my birthday, and he spontaneously suggested we go down to Essence Fest in New Orleans on a guys trip. “Because we ain’t got plans, and it’s ya birthday my n@%$!”, is probably what he said. He wasn’t wrong. Next thing you know, we were heading to New Orleans.

Wel and I were both excited about the Essence parties and concerts (the women), but we also intended to eat gloriously that weekend. So, we needed to speak to a local. Weldon asked me if I knew anybody who lived down there. I was like, “...Oh snap…I actually do”.

I almost decided against it. But, I remembered Mel and I were on good terms again. Low key, I was a little excited to reach out. So, a few days before our trip, I pulled out my phone and sent the most important text of my life.


"Hey Mel! Is this your number? This is Matt Munn...


"To my surprise, Mel responded so positively! Not only did she give us a few food recommendations, she also invited us to come hang with her and her homegirl, Jessica (the maid of honor), at some cool bar with a great dj on the night of my birthday. Of course, I was wit' it. Weldon too.

So, a few nights later, on my birthday, Mel and I found ourselves standing very platonically next to each other, nodding our heads to a 90’s hip hop set. I went to the bar and ordered a whiskey. It was only $6 (New Orleans), so I made it a triple. I also got Mel a drink, obviously. A few hours and several drinks later, and we were dancing very not platonically with each other. It was like we were back in Barcelona. My shirt came off at some point.

For the next several months, Mel and I tried to act like we weren’t both re-interested in each other. I would find any reason to send her a text without crossing any lines like, “Hey, check out this music artist (fire emojis)”. DeAnna got engaged, and both Mel and I were gonna be in the wedding party. So, I took that opportunity to hit her up even more about workouts and diets to help us get fit for Jamaica. This went on for months, until eventually we both cracked. One weekend, while traveling internationally, I secretly upgraded my cell plan so that I could text her. She put two and two together, sent me a cute pic, and the flirtation floodgates were officially reopened.

After dozens of FaceTimes and phone calls, we decided we couldn’t wait until the wedding. So, we planned a snowboarding getaway around Valentine’s Day. We did more lounging around, eating, and binge watching episodes of “Big Mouth” than anything. It was fantastic.

By the time DeAnna’s wedding came, it was pretty obvious that “Matt and Mel go together”. People kept pulling us to the side like, “What’s goin’ on here?”. Mel sang during the ceremony. Anyone who said I cried is a liar.

We dated over the next 4 years. She’d come visit me in New York. I’d go visit her in New Orleans. We went to concerts, ate at the best restaurants, went on snowboarding trips, multiple Mardis Gras, the pandemic hit, we quarantined together, I lost my job, I moved to Delaware, I got a better job, Mel and I kept flying to see each other, we took exotic trips, Hawaii, Costa Rica, I protected her from the howler monkeys, we grew closer to each other’s families, we developed little handshakes, inside jokes, and code words. Eventually, we decided to move in together. We got closer, we developed routines, we had little disagreements, we developed tools to deal with future disagreements, we prioritized quality time, we continued going on dates, we continued taking trips. We did Miami, LA, Houston, and Vegas. Then, we went to Napa.

After a gorgeous drive through the Napa countryside, we pulled up to a winery called “Chateau Montelena”. We stepped out of the rental truck. Mel was like, “Oh this is nice”. I barely heard her. I was focused. Head on a swivel. We walked up a path leading to the main entrance. Mel was looking around smiling, completely oblivious to the fact that I had just made eye contact with my hired photographer, hiding in the bushes. I nodded, and he disappeared like a ninja. I told Mel that we had arrived a little early for our reservation, then suggested we walk around the property a little bit before going in. She should have known I was up to something -- we never arrive early anywhere! Plus, the property around this winery was especially picturesque. Suspiciously so. They had a beautiful lake, a romantic foot-bridge and gazebo, white swans, all that. Still, she didn’t see it coming. After a few minutes, we walked up to an idyllic spot by the lake, underneath a beautiful tree. This was it. I turned, looked Mel into her beautiful eyes, told her I loved her (essentially), and got down on my knee.