My father told me that he knew he loved my mother when he went to catch her throw up after a night of heavy drinking. After being convinced that that was what love was all about, I decided it wasn’t something I was willing to try. Years later, I found myself with a handful of boogers and a smile on my face. It wasn’t quite throw up, but frantic moment spent diving after that sneeze was enough to make me realize that I had found love.
Postscript: After two years, we’re still together and looking for an apartment.
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