Four years ago, Allen asked me to be his girlfriend, and life hasn’t been the same since. Every year, we carve out time to celebrate that sweet little milestone — our “date anniversary.” We celebrate the big things (like our wedding anniversary), but we also believe in celebrating the small ones. The quiet, meaningful days that mark the beginning of something special.

This year’s date night was full of surprises, a little nostalgia, and (let’s be honest) a couple of misses — but that’s what makes it real, and real is always better than perfect.

Allen kicked off the evening with a classic move: surprising me with flowers. I will never get tired of that. Then we headed down to Meatpacking for a visit to The Whitney Museum. Admission is now free on Fridays from 5–10 p.m. (pro tip: you still need a timed ticket, and they go fast — ours was for 5:45).

I brought along my new Canon G7X, hoping to break it in with some terrace shots overlooking the city. Unfortunately, every single terrace was closed — the staff was vague about why, but it felt like something must’ve happened recently. Honestly, I was so bummed. The terrace was a big part of the plan.

I’ll admit it: modern art isn’t totally my thing, but I can appreciate it. We made our way through the museum in about an hour, since one of the floors wasn’t open to the public that night. Highlights? Definitely getting to see some Basquiat and Warhol pieces — that alone made it worth it.

After the museum, we grabbed a quick drink nearby before our dinner reservation at Pastis, a spot I’d been dying to try after a coworker raved about their American cheeseburger. I had high hopes.

For apps, we went with the crispy artichokes (meh) and the pâté (solid). For our mains, we split the cheeseburger and fries, plus a steak with mashed potatoes. The burger was good, but not life-changing. And the mashed potatoes? Honestly tasted boxed. We were both surprised. My cocktail wasn’t great either, so overall the experience didn’t quite live up to the hype. But hey — we always find a way to enjoy ourselves.

Of course, we had to get dessert — sticky toffee pudding — and that ended things on a sweeter note. They even put a cute little candle on it.

After dinner, we took a walk to Books Bar — the cozy cigar bar where Allen asked me to be his girlfriend four years ago. We lit a cigar, toasted to “us,” and soaked in the nostalgia.

It was simple. Special. Imperfect. Ours.