by TOM MARRON (edited by ROB PROFUSEK)
We met in 2006 through Stephen Starling (who’s officiating our wedding) during a cocktail party hosted by Rob at his loft in Greenwich Village. Rob was notorious for hosting late night functions and this specific February night Starling convinced me to go with him. I had always wanted to be a photographer, which was a hard sell to my parents as I eventually chose UVA and medicine over RISD. As a resident of NYC, I’ve always gravitated to artists and creatives over classic business people and this first night was no exception.
The evening that I met Rob, I was excited to meet someone who had just started their own film production company and was pursuing his creative passions (formerly having been an investment banker at the storied firm of Lazard). Rob, it turns out, had forgotten my name (but not my face). By the end of the evening when he asked for my number, luckily for him I was wearing my belt that has a Texan-style buckle with “TOM” carved on the front (something comforting to Rob as he grew up in Dallas for the first 14 years of his life before becoming a Northerner).
In the beginning, I lived uptown close to Mount Sinai during my long hours in the lab, but I always seemed to spend most nights Downtown with Rob. After dating on and off for over a year, against the advice of many, together we drove up to rural New Hampshire and got a beautiful Bernese Mountain dog that we named Dakota (much before The New Normal, I might add). At this point our relationship rapidly solidified as I spent every night helping take care of our new puppy, and to keep Rob’s concern for “taking things too fast,” I rented a closet apartment 3 blocks away in the East Village. Located on the top floor of a brownstone, it didn’t even have a working front door and my unit contained the floors communal kitchen.
Rob insisted on taking things slowly having recently gotten out of a relationship, but out of convenience for heading to work early in the morning, I needed to keep things at Robs apartment. Hence, Rob insisted I keep my thing in neat boxes (albeit nice leather/thatch bound veneers as Rob is particular about order and style), which slowly increased in number from 1 to 6, taking up half the bedroom. I was barely able to afford my apartment in the East Village on a grad-student salary, but every night Rob wanted me to stay over whether it be the dog or another topic as an excuse. We eventually declared Mondays our “night apart,” although every late-night Sunday I would get a simple text (even if we were in the same room) with Rob quietly asking that we abandon our plan for weekly separation and “just get takeout.”
Eventually Rob gave up and I moved in. While initially he said I should get rid of my apartment while crashing with him, some might say that I was technically “homeless” for the first few months of our common union. Finally, I alerted the DMV of my new abode and we were official!
Once we moved in we quickly became an inseparable unit. I knew from the night I met Rob that he was the one for me. While It took him a few years and an 80 pound dog to be convinced, I finished my PhD and returned to Medical School as a 3rd year med student, which was grueling. Rob, though, was head over sneakers for me and committed for the long term! It was a boy’s best dream. Two people, from different yet common worlds, matched forever through laughter, love and passion.
On July 8, 2011 I agreed to commit myself to Rob and to get married, something as a child or even an openly gay man in my 20’s living in New York City I had never thought politically or personally possible. Flash forward to Saturday, June 22, 2013, I will be the happiest and luckiest man on the East side of the Hudson River! I will love you forever and as we say to each other each and ever day “we got a good gig bud.” Yes we do. Yes we do.