He waited in an airport for eight hours to come visit me. When he finally walked off the plane at 3 a.m., when he should have arrived at 7 p.m., I burst into tears. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Happy Valentine’s Day!
Postscript: It’s been six months, and we’re as sappy as ever. He comes home in two weeks and I’ll probably cry all over again. And tackle him to the floor.
I lost my Blackberry on a trip to Jordan, and as I was frantically turning my suitcase inside out looking for it, I found a hastily handwritten note tucked in between some clothes. It said: “Hope your having fun on you trip. I miss you —Tony.” I read that and for a nice little moment forgot how helpless I am without my phone.
Postscript: We’ve been together for over a year now. He still sends me little notes just because, grammatical errors and all.
The first time I saw him, I knew I was going to be with him. The first time we kissed, I knew I loved him.
Postscript: Two years and three months later, we couldn’t be more in love.
I was with someone else at the time, but we had been flirting back and forth via text for a couple of months. I was trying to decide if I should leave my current boyfriend and didn’t think that I could go through with it until he told me that if I took the leap of faith, he’d be there to catch me.
Postscript: One day out of the blue, after almost two years together, he decided he didn’t want to be with me anymore for some still-unknown reason, and we now rarely speak.
I asked him to give me a wake-up call for my early morning final. He totally forgot, and I was crushed. I arrived late for my exam. The next day calla lilies were delivered to me at work. I had casually mentioned this was my favorite flower one time, and he remembered.
Postscript: I got an A in the class. We’ve been married nearly two years. And I still get calla lilies when he screws up.
We went on a date, then we laid in the grass and cuddled. I had a feeling I couldn’t place, and it stuck with me for a long time.
Later, an older coworker of mine was losing his battle with cancer, and we got to talking about him and his wife. He said he realized he loved her the first night they went out, when he had this feeling he couldn’t place. I knew then I loved this girl.
Postscript: We moved to Chicago and stayed together for four years. I asked her to marry me. She said, “Yes,” then had two affairs and left me in a Dear John letter.
He took me to see The Notebook, and of course I cried through the whole thing. He took me to McDonald’s afterward, and I was crying with a mouthful of a McChicken sandwich. And he didn’t care. He kissed me anyway.
Postscript: We dated for a year, and now we’re best friends.