A boring night of serving drinks turned into a life-changing event, when a boy walked into my bar and caught my eye. When he later introduced himself, I found out he was from Chicago and played drums in one of the bands that would be playing the show I was working that night. I discovered his band was one I had loved for years.
After we spent all night awkwardly flirting with each other, I thought to myself, “Now, why can’t I meet a guy like this?” but quickly realized, “Wait! I did!” We spent the rest of the night/early morning talking and falling hard for each other. Two weeks later, we split the cost of a plane ticket for me to fly from Philadelphia to Chicago for a visit.
Postscript: Almost four years later, I’ll have lived in Chicago for three years, and we’re still going strong.
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I was 13 at a summer camp in the woods. It was at the talent show in an amphitheater alight from a bonfire. Just 12, slim and comely, she sang “Send in the Clowns,” and I died for my longing. Somehow I met her that night. The whole week I tried to arrange it so we could be alone. And finally I got my first kiss. I’d see her one week a year until we grew too old for camp. There were other attempts to see her afterward, but she usually had a boyfriend.
Postscript: I never was right for her anyhow.
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We went out for a walk and lay on the lawn looking through the branches of locust trees into the clear night sky. Neither of us wanted to say goodnight. Instead, we named the songs on the White Album. We sang off-key to our favorites, until the morning dew started to form on the grass, and he walked me home.
Postscript: Later he would tell me I was “really something.” I’d roll my eyes, smile, and say that song was off Abbey Road.
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One day we went to the store and ran into an old friend and her 2-year-old. While the mom and I were catching up, he was laughing it up with the kid, playing with the toys on the shelf, and helping her practice her flying. Seeing him so happy and at ease with the child made me realize how amazing and loving he is, and I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with him.
Postscript: Unfortunately, it didn’t last.
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He’d had a hopeless crush for many months on my best friend, who was not interested. When that friend went to New Zealand to meet up with her Internet boyfriend, the two of us were left behind and decided to form a “support group” for missing her. Somewhere between Star Wars Trivial Pursuit and red wine, we forgot all about her.
Postscript: We’ve been together ever since. That was more than six years ago!
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It was drool at first sight when I saw him run up a sunny hill—shirtless. I randomly bumped into him at a bar where my running group was celebrating a race. Turns out he had secretly asked my coach for e-mail updates on my whereabouts so he could finally meet me. We stood outside talking by my car. All our friends left, then the waiters, then the cooks. When the drunken bums started roaming around us, we finally knew it was really late…and that we were hooked.
Postscript: We’re engaged!
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A racquetball-aholic, I asked my mom to find me a suitable adversary. She recruited this fella from her office. When I walked into the racquetball court at the local YMCA, he was already there practicing his moves. A sweatshirt hung by threads from his neckline. He wore Converse high-tops cut off at the ankle; his shoelaces were untied and flying loose with each whack of the racket. He was certainly a vision.
Postscript: That was 26 years ago. This morning we woke up together from our cozy bed, in our old house. We retired the rackets to the basement some years ago due to our ancient knees.
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