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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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!
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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.
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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.
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