Good evening everyone — for those who haven't met me yet, I'm Tom, I had the privilege of knowing Alex since our university days. Back then, we were a little less put-together; a little more optimistic about how easy life would be; and — importantly — completely unaware of just how good things were about to get.
And then Maya came along.
I still remember meeting Maya for the first time. You know that anxious moment when someone joins a friend group and everyone's quietly figuring out how it'll work? That just… didn't happen. Maya somehow walked past 'new person' and landed firmly in 'have you always been here?' within about five minutes. Suddenly, our group chat got better, our plans got better, and Alex — who was already a great guy — became an even better version of himself.
That's the thing about the two of them. Separately, they're wonderful people. But together, they just work in this effortless, grounding, quietly joyful way that makes the rest of us feel lucky to be nearby.
Now — I was told I'd get one good story, so I'm going to spend it on the trip to Portugal. We were eighteen months out of university, broke in a way that only freshly-employed people can be, and we'd somehow agreed to travel together. On the way back from Lisbon, our train sat on a stretch of track outside the city for three hours. No explanation. No moving. No food.
And here's the thing about Alex when a plan falls apart: most people stress; he gets curious. Within twenty minutes he had a deck of cards out, was teaching gin rummy to a Portuguese grandmother across the aisle, and had somehow turned a stuck train into the most fun part of the trip. Maya, of course, filmed the whole thing — including the part where she absolutely demolished both of us at the game she'd just learned.
I think about that train a lot. Because the speech version of marriage is 'we'll handle anything together.' But the real version is more like that train: the plan breaks, you're stuck, and the question is what kind of person sits next to you. Alex and Maya — you've already shown each other and the rest of us the answer.
Maya, before I close — I know your grandmother isn't here today, but I know how much she loved Alex, and I know she'd have something funny and slightly cutting to say right now. Whatever it would have been, take it as said.
Alex, Maya — you found each other early enough to grow up together and late enough to know exactly what you have. Please raise a glass with me — to a marriage that handles delayed trains, learns new card games, and films every minute of it.
To Alex and Maya.