A friend needed my help, so I took a cab to her place at 2:30 a.m. It was sketchy, and I told this to my boyfriend the next morning while taking a walk. He stopped me, looked me straight in the eye, and said, “You are never doing that again.”
Postscript: It didn’t work out, but we’re still close.
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We had a lab exam for organic chemistry the next morning and I was supposed to go home at 9 p.m. so we could study by ourselves without distracting each other. Instead, we stayed up all night talking, and at 6 a.m. we finally kissed. We never had a chance to do well on the exam anyway.
Postscript: He later broke my heart, but it was good while it lasted.
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I had told my mom that if only someone like him could like me then I would move on from my crummy old relationship and into a new one. He told his mom he thought I was beautiful. I visited him in Chicago a month later, and he swept me off my feet.
Postscript: I travel the country to be in his arms. He makes the smile on my face so much brighter; I couldn’t be more in love.
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She wasn’t that into me because I talked with all the adults while all the kids played bocce ball at a dinner party. That night I sent her a Facebook message asking her out to coffee the next day, which turned into her inviting me over. That night was our first movie, our first kiss, and our first sleepover. The rest is history.
Postscript: We’ve been dating for almost 10 months now, most of which was long distance between Seattle and Chicago. But we’re definitely in love: She came with me to Lafayette, Louisiana, while I did research for my history thesis! That’s what I call commitment.
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I had a mental debate in my head over whether I should or shouldn’t be in love with a certain person. After a week or so of thinking about it very hard, I decided that I should be.
Postscript: Thinking too hard worked against me later in this matter.
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I met a girl online, and we planned to get coffee. But the night before she called and asked me to come pick her up from a party. Some drunk guys were grabbing her arm trying to get her to stay, so I pretended to be her boyfriend. We were close for a few months, then broke it off. Six years later, I was looking at old pictures of her, remembering how much fun we had together, and I realized I had loved her this whole time.
Postscript: To be determined.
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I had just bought a CD by an obscure band in high school, and I played it on repeat for weeks. He was in one of my classes, so asked him if he had heard of said band. He laughed, pulled out his day planner, and showed me the first page, where he had pasted the lyrics of his (and my) favorite track.
Postscript: We started dating and have been together (with a couple short breaks) since then, about six years.
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