We could have a three-hour discussion about the Cubs, argue about the starting lineup, claim that the other person was an idiot in regards to their stance on the Bartman issue, then cook dinner together and watch a romantic comedy. All in one day.
—Margaret
Postscript: We dated for three years, and, after it all, he’s still my best friend.
I had a terrible sore throat and felt pretty miserable. We took a walk on the beach, and he held me in his arms as we stared out at the water—my sore throat went away and I melted into his embrace. I felt invincible.
—Christine
Postscript: That was about three months after we started dating. We’ve now been together for two-and-a-half years, and I’m more in love with him than ever.
When your girlfriend gets pregnant and you get married, everyone thinks you’re going to fail. She thought I married her because she was pregnant, not because I loved her. So I had another person to prove it to. When she was pregnant she was really sick. When you see each other at your worst and you can say, “I still love that person,” that means you really love them.
—John
Postscript: Almost 30 years and four kids later, I love her more than I ever have.
I saw the way that he treated my mother and the way she treated him back. She loved him before I did. With five sons she really wasn’t looking for another, and I thought, “Hm, this must be a pretty nice guy.”
—Eileen
Postscript: We dated for the last two years of high school and got married right after graduation. We’ve been together for 56 years and had a son and four perfect grandchildren.
At a welcome home party for a friend who recently fulfilled his commitment to the Marines, he walked straight up to me and told me that he’s loved me every day for 10 years and couldn’t stand not saying it out loud.
—Cate
Postscript: We live 500 miles apart, but love makes the distance seem small.
He finally came out to his parents about being gay after two years of dating.
— Danny
Postscript: Problem was he wouldn’t come out to his friends…we broke up after three years.
We met in 1968, freshman year, in algebra class. He was the bad boy “greaser” I couldn’t resist and I was the good girl. We never said much but when I missed a week of school for a funeral out of town he was worried about me and called to see where I was.
— Karen
Postscript: Thirty-eight years of marriage and three kids later we’re still together. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
