their photo when you wake up. their song on your walk. a private chat that shares songs, films and date invites, a wall of photos and notes you decorate together, and a countdown to the next hug. made first for couples who live apart.
one price covers both of you, and it stays yours for as long as you do.
open it and it's them: the selfie they took on the walk home, the song they picked for you, the letter that just opened. then your turn: today's photo to take, a date to say yes to, your move in chess.
at the top, their local time and a few words they set, like "walking home", so you always know where their day is.
no feed, just them
a private chat for the two of you. type /song and it becomes a song you can both play, each in your own Spotify or Apple Music. /movie shares a film, and tells you when it's on both your watchlists. /invite asks them out, with a yes and an "another time". /letter writes a letter they can't open until a day you choose, like the day you land.
voice notes, stickers, video calls. and you can bring your old WhatsApp or Telegram chats, so nothing starts from zero.
a timeline of your days together: the calls, the letters, the song you both had on repeat. every day gets its own page, with its photos, the film you watched and what you both said. and at the end of each month, a chapter, like a little book of it.
scroll forward and what's coming is there too: the visit in twelve days, the date on Friday, a letter that hasn't opened yet.
switch your story to months and it's a calendar of the two of you. every day you shared a photo shows it, so a good month fills up with faces.
today has a red ring, a day with a letter gets a folded corner, and a day that mattered gets a gold line. what's still to come is drawn in dashed lines: a plan you made, and the days you'll be together, each with a heart.
under it, this month's plans, and the month so far in a line: 41 photos, 3 letters, 9h on calls.
october, so far
a card for each of you, painted with your city's sky right now, your afternoon next to their moon. each shows the local time, the weather and a few words, like "on the train" or "home safe".
in between, the distance: 5,710 km, five hours apart, and a little plane counting down the days until you're in the same city.
and a map of your own: every date spot, trip and first, pinned where it happened. red for dates, blue for trips, gold for firsts.
12 days to go
save anything: a photo, a song, a message, a letter. it all goes in one box you can both open, and the best of it goes up on a shared wall, taped, pinned and a little crooked. when one of you pins something, the other watches it go up.
photos from your chat, your daily photos and your calls sort themselves into albums, one for each trip.
ask them out properly: a film, a game, a dinner you both cook. the invite shows the time for each of you, 8pm yours and 1am theirs, and when you both say yes it gets stamped: it's a date.
then play together, one move at a time or live on a call: eleven games like chess and sea battle, plus couple games like the 36 questions. the loser plans the next date. go on, try it.
your move, cutie
chess
sea battle
word hunt
a photo a day: you each take one, and neither of you sees the other's until both are in. a song of the day. a highlight of the week you both write. pick the ones you like, or make your own.
one of them, if you want it, is reasons: each of you writes down things you love about the other, and every morning one is waiting for them.
their latest photo, the first thing you see when you pick up your phone. a countdown to your next visit, like a departures board that flips at midnight. a stack of games waiting on your move.
and their time, the few words they set, and what's waiting for you inside.
you're in Toronto. Alex is in Lisbon, five hours ahead. here's a Wednesday.
their selfie from lunch is the first thing you see when you open Reasons, before you've even sat up.
they picked it on their break. it opens in your Spotify and in their Apple Music, and it joins the mixtape of every song you've shared.
they took your bishop on the train home. you take something back over lunch.
theirs stays hidden until you take yours. you take one at your desk, and they appear on both phones at the same moment.
an evening on Steam, the two of you. it's added to today in your story by itself, with the hours you played.
their card says they're probably asleep. you write them a letter they can't open until you land in Lisbon.
I love my girlfriend more than I know how to say. At the end of this summer, we started doing long distance.
The day I left, I gave her a goodbye letter. At the bottom was a QR code. I told her I'd run out of ways to say I love her long before I ever ran out of reasons. So instead of saying it once, I'd show her: one reason, every single day.
The code opened a little page, and every morning a new reason for why I love her was waiting there for her.
It became our little ritual. She'd open it first thing, before her coffee, and tell me which one made her smile. Being apart, that small page started to feel like the one place that was just ours. So I kept building on it.
First, a way to look back at every reason so far. Then her photos, because each one is a reason too. Then a calendar of all our dates, and a way to ask each other out across the distance.
Somewhere along the way, it stopped being a page of reasons. It became a home for us: everything we've been through, a reason for today, and every date still to come.
That's how Reasons was born. She's my reason, every single day. Now it can be a home for yours.
made for her firstwe don't have a date yet. join the waitlist and we'll write when it's your turn.
yes, it's a home for two. when it's your turn you start it and send your partner a code, and you're in together. you can also add their email when you join. one of you pays, for both of you. your partner joins free.
your home is for the two of you and nobody else. there's no feed and no ads, and we don't sell anything. your photos, reasons and letters are only for the two of you, kept encrypted by our host. your chat and the private room (hidden, locked with a code, and off until you both say yes) go further: they're sealed on your two phones, and in a backup on our server that opens only with a recovery key: the one each of you keeps in iCloud Keychain or Google's backup, or one you wrote down. so a new phone gets them back, and we can't read your chat or the private room. location is off until you both turn it on, and you can pause it in one tap.
yes. we never hold your data hostage. everything you keep in Reasons is yours: the chat, the photos, the letters, the whole timeline. export it any time, in files you can open without us, and keep it even if you stop using the app. if you leave, you can ask us to delete it, and we will.
nothing is deleted. you can still open and read everything you made together, and save a copy of it. posting new things pauses until one of you starts a plan again.
yes. if you've been talking on WhatsApp or Telegram, you can bring that history in once you both say yes. it goes before your first message in Reasons, and bringing it in again never doubles anything.
the couples who start first get a founding price, while places last. it's one price for the two of you, and it's yours to keep. join the waitlist and we'll write when it's your turn.
both, from the start. one of each works too.
no. we're starting with couples who live apart, because that's where a shared home helps most. when the distance closes it keeps going: your story, the wall, the little rituals and date night are just as much for two people in the same city.
we write to you about the waitlist and the launch, and nothing else. the privacy note below says exactly what we keep, and how to be removed.
the first couples keep a founding price. leave your email and we'll write once, when it's your turn, then you and your partner start together.
long-distance couples go first
send them this, and they can join too.
changed your mind?