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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As soon as I heard the twinkling opening tune of my all-time favorite song, “String of Pearls” by Glen Miller, my legs were already itching to get out on the dance floor. The wedding reception of mutual friends was where my favorite song, met my favorite guy. I couldn’t help it; I led through most of the song and even accidentally swung my future husband that night into the reception hall post.
Postscript: “String of Pearls” still does it to me – reminding me of staring love in the eyes and never wanting to let go.
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I was sitting across the room from him while he and his friends jammed out on their guitars. We were all a little tipsy and having a blast. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, and once he put the guitar down I couldn’t keep my hands off either. Musicians must love their love lives.
Postscript: We’ll see where the road takes us…
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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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I was picking up my four-year-old daughter at a friend’s house, and my husband-to-be was retrieving his canoe. He came up and asked if I canoed. I said yes, but how about my daughter? When he said that she was more than welcome to join the fun, love began.
Postscript: We’ve been married 34 years and have five daughters and five grandchildren.
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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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