He said he knew he would end up marrying an Indian girl because he knew so many. Not wanting to meet his eyes for risk of embarrassment, I looked away, trying to ignore the voice telling me I could very well end up being that girl. Little did I know how right gut instinct was.
Postscript: We’ve been together for three years and look forward to getting married in the near future.
Who would have thought I’d meet my soul mate in my English class? I walked into class and without realizing it, sat next him. At the end of the period, I asked him what the homework was and he said he would only tell me if he could have my number.
Postscript: We are still together three years later, and we couldn’t be happier. He’s the love of my life.
Sneaking out of a dilapidated frat house at 3 in the morning after a drunken, sweaty make-out session rarely has love written all over it. But as I fumbled to kiss him good-night, awkwardly waved, and headed out into the chilly April night, without even an exchange of numbers or last names, I knew this guy wasn’t going anywhere. We were young, we are young, but I knew from that moment—that simple, meaningless lingering wave before I turned and ran home—that he would change my life forever.
Postscript: Almost a year later, we’re very much still together and still busy making out–but in far classier places, don’t worry. I still can’t shake the deep, knowing feeling that this guy isn’t going anywhere.
best of sweet
I fell in love with my husband when he put my bicycle in a taxi cab during the Chicago riots of 1968. This was our first meeting.
Postscript: We have been married for 41 years, and our daughter was a scholarship recipient of the 19th Century Charitable Association.
The man who had been my mechanic was so generous to loan me his Lincoln town car when I was without my car following my accident. Then he found me a “work car” for $600 and assured me that when I was ready to sell it, he would find a buyer for it and would sell it for more than $600, which he did. Who couldn’t love this man, helping a damsel in distress.
Postscript: We have been married for 13 years, both of us with no regrets!
We had become good friends in a month, bonded over a mutual tendency to take care of others. When he found out I was self-quarantined, sick, in my bedroom, he came down with a cup of the best hot chocolate I’d ever tasted. He tucked me in and kissed me on the forehead. He was the first guy who showed me I was worth being taken care of.
Postscript: It took us over a year after our friendship first formed to finally date officially. But I’ve loved him since that first cup of hot chocolate.
He wouldn’t leave me alone. Always asking me out, following me around, calling me “just to talk”. I had a hard time saying no. He was just too sweet. Somewhere down the road, I started liking him. Eventually, I was making the random calls. He became my best friend. Then one night, I kissed him and he put his arms around me. I felt safe. I never wanted him to let go. I realized I loved him back.
Postscript: That was almost six years ago. We’ve been married now for three years and have an 18 month old son.