Our first stop was the Ferry Building Marketplace, where I showed Drew very quickly how not shy I was around samples, especially cheese samples. We ate and giggled our way through some very fun and very tasty chocolate, ice cream, and olive oil stands.

At the ceramic shop, Drew hovered outside nervously, so I boldly walked in, introduced myself to the owner, and asked about her creative process and journey to this point. I also introduced her to my favorite artist, who was adorably shy but also talkative and passionate once pressed.

Somewhere in the middle of the indoor street, we clinked West Coast oysters, and the briny, salty deliciousness that filled my mouth made me feel guilty for preferring them over oyster pancakes.

Toward the end of the marketplace, Drew and I bought a chocolate croissant to share. But right as I was sitting down at a table by the water, he pecked me on the cheek, shot me a mischievous smile, and darted away, no explanation. A minute later he returned with a pack of origami paper. I raised one arm in excitement while using the other to hide the fact that I’d already eaten half of the croissant.

Our red, pink, and blue origami roses ended up smeared with little streaks of chocolate and even more love. Mine didn’t look anywhere near as luminous or in bloom as his, but he cradled them like they were treasures, making me turn as red as the first rose I’d made. I scooped up the handful he’d folded and carefully tried to position them at the top of my backpack so they wouldn’t get crushed.

After grabbing a second croissant to go, we Ubered to the Asian Art Museum, which we explored languidly. Drew showed me some of his favorites, but since it had been a while since he’d visited, he was discovering a lot of the pieces with me.

As I walked among images of cranes and Buddha inked in Chinese calligraphy brushstrokes, I felt connected to them even though the works were so purely Asian. I used to think those pieces of my life were removable, but now I realized they were so ingrained, such an integral part of me, that they were mixed throughout, evenly. Like my blood vessels or connective tissue or nerves. They were not just a part of me, but me.