I had landed my first journalism job and was living in a basement studio. I was dating Ron, a fellow Columbia Journalism School grad, and we were scraping by on entry-level salaries. It was 2006, and we were happy exploring the boroughs of New York City together. Then, one evening, Ron called me and said that his financial situation was untenable, but he had been offered a new job in Taipei. He planned to leave in a month. He wanted to marry me and hoped I would move there, too.