A friend needed my help, so I took a cab to her place at 2:30 a.m. It was sketchy, and I told this to my boyfriend the next morning while taking a walk. He stopped me, looked me straight in the eye, and said, “You are never doing that again.”
—Julia
Postscript: It didn’t work out, but we’re still close.
We had a lab exam for organic chemistry the next morning and I was supposed to go home at 9 p.m. so we could study by ourselves without distracting each other. Instead, we stayed up all night talking, and at 6 a.m. we finally kissed. We never had a chance to do well on the exam anyway.
—V
Postscript: He later broke my heart, but it was good while it lasted.
One afternoon we were lying together on his living room couch, napping side-by-side and completely at ease. In between consciousness and sleep, I prayed to God that this moment didn’t have to end; this was the happiest I had ever been in my life.
—Anonymous
Postscript: We broke up amicably three months later after we headed off to different colleges. Three years later, we’re still keeping in touch, and he’s still one of my favorite people.
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!
—Cry Baby
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.
Sitting on a park bench, we talked for hours about South African politics. Him, the bright Namibian law student with the scruffy beard. And me, the wide-eyed undergraduate who dreamed of saving the world. As our hands locked, two different worlds inevitably became one.
—Fleur Sauvage
Postscript: After dating for two months during my undergraduate study abroad program, we decided to stay together (despite the 8,000 miles that separated us). We are engaged to be married next summer.
I made fun of her. She shoved me into a chair. We went on our first date two weeks later. It’s good to know that fifth-grade habits still apply in college.
—B
Postscript: We dated for two months and then split.
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.
—Blackberry-aholic
Postscript: We’ve been together for over a year now. He still sends me little notes just because, grammatical errors and all.
