“Do you need me to explain that?” he asked me in the study lounge after statistics one day. Decked out in sweatpants and glasses with unwashed hair, I accepted his offer, assuming sexual chemistry was out of the question for this new study buddy. Two months later, I walked away with a boyfriend and a C- in statistics. While he certainly couldn’t save my grade, he taught me that an “A” relationship is based on personal connection, patience, and perseverance.
Postscript: Still very much in love two years later. Still failing all math classes.
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We were in the early stages of dating when his mother came to town. He invited me to his family dinner at the last minute. I saw that he could be completely himself around her— happy, rebellious, and just the right amount mortified by her gushing. I fell asleep that night thinking about how families are crazy, and if I was to ever start one, it would have to be with someone like him.
Postscript: Circumstantial breakup when I moved to a new city. We still keep in touch. I move back in six months.
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The relationship was long distance, and he’d come to visit me during my freshman year of college in Chicago. It was February and quite literally freezing, I warned him. He must not have heard me correctly because his “winter” clothes consisted of a windbreaker and jeans. Given no choice, I acquired clothes from the girls in my all-girls dorm hallway and clothed him in a woman’s coat, socks, scarf and hat. We spent an amazing weekend in the city together and I was generous with my mockery of his outfit. I could tell he was just happy we could be together and could care less about having to wear women’s clothing. That was the first time he said “I love you.”
Postscript: I was traded in for a girl closer to his home, who is enthusiastic about belly button rings and mesh clothing. He goes to school in California, so for better or worse, I don’t think he’ll need to borrow more women’s clothing anytime soon.
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We started dating when we were sixteen. Now we’re in college, and even though we’re apart, the distance has actually brought us closer. We realized the times we do get to be with each other, however few, are far greater than the difficulty of being in love with someone two thousand miles away. I think I’ll hold on to him.
Postscript: Even though I wake up without him everyday, I know one day we will be together for good.
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He is terrible at surprises. He can never hold them in. Birthdays, Christmas, you name it. He tried to surprise me our sophomore year of college by planning a trip to come visit me for Valentine’s Day, but instead he spilled the beans a week before he came out—he was so excited. Even though I wish he’d kept it a secret, it’s moments like these that remind me how hard we work to make this long distance relationship work. When I think there is no way I could love him any more than I do now, he manages to surprise me again.
Postscript: Still dating. He still hasn’t improved at surprising me.
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He was the funny guy in my 8th grade science class. I immediately fell for his witty jokes and flirty smile; he however fell for a pretty blonde come freshman year. I had just about given up on him until he asked me to the Homecoming dance our sophomore year…finally! I’d like to think it’s the smartest thing he’s ever done. We’ve been together ever since.
Postscript: Been together five years. Still flirting and still smiling.
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On the eve of our one-year anniversary, he left for a class trip to Japan. The next morning, I walked downstairs sullenly, feeling bad for myself—why did my first serious boyfriend have to leave me alone on a “milestone” such as this? That’s when I saw the mountain of flowers and the card that detailed our past year together. That’s also when I knew my high school sweetheart was something more.
Postscript: Our relationship has lasted through high school and into college. I am hopeful for the future and many more anniversaries.
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