True Love Stories – My True Love

Have you ever had a crush in school that lasted years? Were you ever able to sum up the courage to ask your crush out, or tell them how you feel? Here’s one of the sweetest true love stories that lasted years and took a whole new turn in the end.

 The unfolding of all true love stories

Today I met him, the boy in the middle of this whole love story.

Back in eight grade of my schooling, I had a huge crush on him.

Actually, when I say huge, it’s a complete understatement. I had a gargantuan crush on that guy.

It was like one of those fairytale love stories your grandmother would have made up, to convince you to get married.

I believed in that fairytale. I believed in love, and him, just as much.

During my pinky frilly days (minus the pink and frill, realistically I was a tomboy), I was the goon in school, and a good one at that.

I bullied my schoolmates who picked on nice kids like me. You know the ones, spotty, wearing cheap plastic glasses that covered more than just the eyes, the whole face really.

As cool as we considered ourselves to be, in reality my friends and I were actually the dorky geeks of the school. My pals and I were uncool and shunned by the so called “cooler people”

Have you ever had a crush in school that lasted years? Were you ever able to sum up the courage to ask your crush out, or tell them how you feel? Here’s one of the sweetest true love stories that lasted years and took a whole new turn in the end.

On the contrary, the teachers loved geeks like me. We had the best grades, the simplest hairstyles and we were the best-behaved children. But I was also good at sports. Sports were given a lot of importance in our school and sportsmen in my school were like the quarterbacks in Hollywood teen movies. They were the idols. My spectacles never came between me and my star status. Until I fell in love.

If you were to ask me about the whole deal now, I would call it silly.

But then, I never felt silly. It was a serious and dramatic chapter for me in my life.

The beginning of my true love story

I remember the day when I first saw him and it feels like it was just yesterday. My friends and I were walking on the loggia and then, just like in one of the H-Town mush movies, time just stood still. The dry leaves stopped in midair and so did the rest of the world. He was coming from the other side with his pals. He was so handsome, so dashing and so all that. Who was he? He was a senior, and two years older than me. I got to know that later that day. [Read: Understanding the emotions of love at first sight]

Where there is a will, there is a way, especially when it comes to information. I was in eighth grade and he was in tenth grade. Wow! His class was very close to the ladies’ room. I started frequenting the loo so much that my teacher had to send me to the sick room to check if I had some bladder infection. She was right, I did have an infection. It was love.

Within no time I had all the information about him. He had an elder brother who was married. He lived near the city hall. And he went by the route ‘3’ bus. Sadly, I went home by route ‘1’ bus.

I tried going once by route ‘3’ bus. He was there, reclining in the back seats, talking and flirting with his girlfriends. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. To make things worse, going by route ‘3’ meant that I had to walk four miles back home. [Read: The ten types of love you'll experience in life]

I wanted him to know that I liked him but at times, I wanted the secret to die with me. Now I wonder if that was limerence or true love I was feeling for him. I guess there was that bit of girliness underneath my skin of a tomboy. How could I tell him, should I even tell him, and other questions along those lines became more important to me than algebra and differentiation.

I loved him, I was sure of that then. I wanted to marry him and live happily ever after. All this, without ever knowing whether there was a girl in his life or whether he would ever like me. I was pretty sure he would like me. He was supposed to. Everyone liked me. Why wouldn’t he? I could never summon the courage to tell him.

The days passed and I passed into my ninth grade. Now I was a big girl who was trying to hide the tomboy in the closet. I was a girl who was trying to be a girl. I grew my hair despite my battles with the comb. My skirt got shorter and my socks got lower. Although I wasn’t allowed to wax in my traditional school, I didn’t have to worry about that. I had great legs. I wanted to lure him with my beauty. I was beautiful although I wore glasses. [Read: How to seduce a guy who isn't yours]

In ninth grade, my class ended up being the one opposite his and I didn’t have to frequent the loo to see him anymore. One time, he got a sty in his eye and I felt like I had one too, the whole week. I had two Valentine’s Day cards, two get-well-soon cards, and one Congratulations card when he won the Badminton’s Title. Although I never gave any of them to him. And how could I have given it to him, he didn’t even know that I loved him.

The first conversation of love

But I was certain that he knew about my secret love story, how could he not know that I loved him when the whole world knew it. The sky, the trees, the earth, my badminton racquet that I picked up when I knew it was his favorite game, and all my friends. How could he be so ignorant of my eyes which were so full of love and my heart which sighed every time I saw him?

I never tried to conceal my love, but I didn’t want to force him to love me. I had walked half the distance for him and wanted him to cross the rest. I knew he would come. Every year, a sports tournament was organized by the school and students from all the schools across the country participated in it. It was a big event in September. It was a very exciting experience and the perfect platform to meet new faces and a chance to express your crush, love and… whatever!

I was being desperate and itching to shed the goody-two-shoes. If only I could tell him, everything would settle. Feminism was in, a lot of girls ask guys out, and I was not an alien. [Read: How to get a guy to ask you out in 9 sneaky ways]

I made up my mind to tell him in the Badminton court. I had kept a nice frock for the occasion. I wore it, tied my hair in a ponytail, applied home-stolen scarlet lipstick, and my aunt’s heels (which were way too big for me). I was ready to dispatch myself for the mission.

He was there as expected, like the Prince Charming of Cinderella. And I was his Cinderella, only without the glass slippers. Or so I thought. I went to the court where he was practicing and occupied a corner. He was playing and I had to wait for him. He looked at me and I waved. He turned away, no hints there. I stood there for an hour and he was still playing. Why can’t he stop for a minute and listen to me? Maybe he wanted to meet me alone and so was pretending to play.

My mind was working furiously. But I could see that he wasn’t focused on the game as he was missing many shots. He walked up to me. “Hey, whom are you waiting for?”

“Y…ouu…” All I could manage to say, after stuttering for a minute.

“Me, why?” he asked in mock surprise. By then I had summoned all my courage, enough to tell him that it was important to talk to him alone and somewhere less public. So we were walking together. He was eying me intensely. I got the heebie jeebies, and yet, it excited me. It was a difficult walk, as my heels were too big for me. But I loved it, the walk. After walking a while, he stopped abruptly. “What do you want from me?”

“You” I blurted without hesitation. Cheesy and ego shattering, but what can a ninth grader say when all they used to watch back in those days was Animal Planet. He was amused. Oh wow, he likes me. “You are kidding, right?” he asked me. I could only shake my head for no.

“So is that why you’re wearing a Christmas frock in September and putting on scarlet lipstick. To lure me for a date? You look like a fool. Didn’t you see the mirror before coming here? Go home and put that lipstick in your locker if you want to attract a boy sometime in your life. You’re a child and I don’t date children.”

[Read: Reasons why a guy could reject a girl]

The end of love as I knew it

Snip, snip… with each word that he uttered, he was snipping away all the confidence I ever had. He walked away. I sat on the ground. I didn’t know when I got back home. I could never love again. I was shattered. A year passed but my love for him never changed even after his harsh words.

I loved him the same way I did the first day I saw him. That love had made me a real girl. My friends too had grown up. A very dear friend of mine used to travel in the same school bus as he did. She was more beautiful than me. And she didn’t wear glasses. She got friendly with him. It was done with a purpose to bring him to me. There was a ray of hope at last. But instead of bringing him to me, she hooked up with him. They fell in love with each other. [Read: Experiencing unrequited love]

Time passed by and I really grew up this time. I passed my years with good grades. My friend and he were still together. I was still friends with her too. To pursue my education, I went to the big city where my parents lived. But the memories of my small town dorms and him were with me all the time. Could I ever forget him? When I first got to my parent’s place, I didn’t like the big city. It was just too big. And there were no things such as friendship, everyone was in his or her own boat rowing on to crush others.

A true love story rekindled

But then I clung close to my parents and I loved it. I was tuned to my studies and made myself forget the whole heart-breaking “trauma” of my teen years. Do you think I could ever make the folly of falling in love again? I never did believe I would.

But I did fall in love again. There was this guy, my neighbor. For the first time in my life I was a girly girl who actually was hogging all the stares of the men from Mars, and vicious green stares from Venusian eyes. For the first time in my life, I started flirting. “Harmless flirting”, that’s what one of my cousins called it. My neighbor was very handsome and I could say, quite interested too. [Read: Tips to flirt without really flirting]

So we started our little game of “harmless flirting”. We would look at each other and smile. But there was nothing more than that. No words. He was good, with words (gestures actually, as we never spoke to each other) and I was mesmerized by his eyes. I never thought that I could fall in love all over again. I was a veteran in love long before it was time to be one.

I had left everything of my past behind, even the phone numbers and addresses of my friends. I was happy with my new found flirting partner. I had my future clearly etched for me. I would study hard as I always did, get a job and would flirt with him for a change, if he ever remained around that long.

I was going through a blank frame of mind for a few days and the occasional veranda flirt also failed to cheer me up. So I completely avoided going out on the balcony for two days. One time, as I was sauntering home after school, I saw him. My flirting friend. Whoa, what was he doing here? He waved his hands and gestured towards me. I felt like I was in a stupor, I went to him. “Where were you the last two days?” he asked.

So he could use his mouth to communicate. Interesting.

“I was wondering if something happened to you”, he added.

“No, I am fine”, I managed to say. It was one thing to flirt from your balcony, but a completely different thing to talk to him, that too in front of your school. “Wanna have coffee?” he asked all of a sudden. “Uhm, oh, ok” Whew, I could talk to him too, though in monosyllables. He took me to a café. I was on my first date. [Read: Signs that a guy is into you]

My first date with love

My first date, and I was so not ready for it! There I was on my first date. The worst part was that he was looking so handsome. And he was talking to me like he knew me for years. I was too busy thinking. He was asking why he didn’t see me on the balcony the last two days. I just shrugged my shoulder and said, “Blame my shitty mood”. I couldn’t believe that I had cussed in front of him. Ding Ding! Minus two hundred points!

My first date was converting into a disaster and I was the jackass axing the branch I was sitting on. Believe it or not, surprisingly, it didn’t end in a disaster. He asked me out and we met frequently afterwards. He was pursuing a graduate degree. And I got to know much more about him and his family as the time passed. His name is Andrew. Not a romantic name. [Read: How to be a great date all the time]

But today I can tell you that he is the most romantic person in the world. He is responsible for bringing out the lost confidence in me and I am not afraid to be myself with him. He is mine and I could ask for nothing more. He proposed to me and it was the best day of my life. Of course, I accepted and we’re going to get married soon.

Just last month, my first crush tracked me down on Facebook. He got my number from one of my old classmates and called me up. He was in the city and wanted to meet. Why? Just like that, an acquaintance with an old friend was what he said. He was begging me to meet him. I told him that I would meet him at a café the next evening. I was so not looking forward to meeting him though.

When I discussed it with my fiancé, he told me to go and meet the guy. “Talking has never killed anyone and as long as your old love story doesn’t rekindle, I have no issues.” He was teasing me. That “old love story” had failed to revive after all those long years. I wasn’t even able to remember his full name.

After work the next day, I went to meet this guy. Surprisingly, I was able to recognize him. He hadn’t changed one bit. But something was different this time, I wasn’t feeling that tingle. Nothing. Zilch. It felt like he was just a stranger that I had bumped into for a conversation. Perhaps I had grown up or perhaps the pages of my love story were filled with another man’s name.

I wasn’t feeling any bitterness towards him either. The half hour with him felt like a business meeting. No emotions or fake emotions exchanged. I couldn’t even understand why he even wanted to meet me. We were never friends. When I told him that I was engaged, he seemed shocked.

“You can’t do that to me, I like you a lot!” he said all of a sudden. [Read: How men really fall in love]

“What do you mean by that?”

His reaction was a surprise to me. “Your scarlet lipstick looks good on you,” he reminded me, hoping to rekindle that day when I was crazy about him.

But it hit me the other way, and the pain of that evening came rushing back to me. I just looked at him, blankly. “I don’t want you to live in the past.” I wasn’t able to hold back words this time around.

“It was just a childhood crush. Please don’t take it seriously. I am fine with my life and have no clue why you’re bringing this up, and now, after all these years. I am happy with my partner and wish you can find someone nice for yourself too. Please don’t get in touch with me again. Good luck with your life.” I told him and rushed home to meet my love.

We can all fall in love plenty of times, but there’s always that one special time when we come across a perfectly true love story in your own life. [Read: How to get the perfect boyfriend]

So don’t be afraid to fall in love, and don’t ever give up on it, because romantic true love stories may seem like a fairytale, but they’re usually always waiting for you right around the corner.

Story of my life

Our love story started long before Matthew and I ever actually met.

And when you think about it, most love stories start that way. Every moment leading up to the one in which you meet your future husband or wife somehow shapes you and prepares you for that person you were fated for. Any previous heartbreaks or dark days or lonely nights can be crucially important in the grand scheme of things—sometimes we need to know what something feels like when it’s wrong before we can ever really know it when another thing is RIGHT.


So that’s why I need to start the story with a little bit of background. The whole “girl meets boy, boy and girl fall in love, boy and girl get married” model is a little too simplistic for my needs. You people want details, don't you? Of course you do.


When I was 18 years old and working as a waitress at a little family restaurant, I met a guy who was 10 years older than me. He was the one who came before Matthew. We dated for three and half years, and even lived together during the last year and half of that relationship. We moved into a tiny little house and owned Gracie and Cooper together and our relationship was never a terrible one. He was a good guy, I was a good girl, and we really did love each other.


But for every moment of those three and a half years, I had a nagging, itching, aching feeling that he would never be the right one for me. Despite his great heart, he lacked ambition and drive and handled his finances very poorly and, at the heart of it all, was very insecure despite being a bright and attractive guy. I understood him, though. I understood that his family had never prepared him for LIFE, and the poor decisions he had made as a younger man had him caught in a sticky web and a hole he just couldn’t seem to dig himself out of.


As the years went by, he could give me less and less of what I needed. Things became strained between us. I was a terrible nag, and I see that now. But the problem was that there were just too many things about him that I wanted to change. And as I began to realize that I could never change him and shouldn’t have to, I struggled SO much with what the right thing to do was. It ate away at me day and night, because I honestly couldn’t imagine my life without him. And being alone TERRIFIED me.


Somewhere during all this, I read the book The Secret which is all about the law of attraction. I really, really believed in what it said. It inspired me. I realized that I had not arranged my life in a way that allowed for all the things I so desired. I hate to skim over this because it’s so important, but let’s just say that I KNEW I had to decide what I wanted my future to look like and start taking active steps towards attracting that future. And staying in my current relationship at the time was a major roadblock. I knew in my heart that if I stayed where I was, life would always be a struggle. 


So one day the breakup finally happened. We talked and cried for hours and finally decided that we could never truly work. He decided to move out and let me stay in the house and keep the dogs because, on his income alone, he couldn’t afford to live there (I made enough waiting tables to cover the bills if pennies were tightly pinched).


I can honestly say that the 48 hours after that break up were the toughest of all my life. I ugly-cried those kind of tears that come from somewhere inside you didn’t even know existed—a place of fear and sudden awareness that you are completely alone.


And that’s the place I was in when I met Matthew. We met a mere 48 hours after the ex and I called it quits, which could either be considered really terrible timing or really great timing. I choose to believe the timing was perfect.


But let’s back up again for just a minute.


Remember how I was working at that little restaurant? Well, for a couple of years I’d been waiting on my future in-laws without even knowing it. We’ll just call them Mr. and Mrs. D for our purposes here today.


They were an odd couple. Mrs. D was a beautiful blonde and friendly as can be, and Mr. D was quiet, reserved, and hard to read. I really enjoyed waiting on them, though, and I found it amusing when Mrs. D would occasionally mention their son in California and how perfect he and I would be for each other. She mentioned this to me on at least two or three occasions, but I always laughed and just politely reminded her that I had a boyfriend. I came to find out later that, in actuality, Mrs. D talked a whole lot more about Matthew and I one day meeting than I ever knew at the time; Mr. D now says he had to hear about it every single time they came to the restaurant, and Matthew, when he was in town, would always go to eat there and would hear about me then, too. But for some reason, I was never working when Matthew happened to stop in with his parents, and our paths never crossed.


But then one day, on January 19, 2009, our paths DID cross. And to make it all the more strange, I wasn’t even working that day—the encounter was, TRULY, by chance.


Little did I know when I woke up that morning, Martin Luther King Day and a university holiday, that my life was about to be turned upside down.




Chapter Two


It was a Saturday that the ex and I had broken up, and by Monday morning, though I was by NO means “over” the breakup, I was feeling ever so slightly hopeful; or at least looking forward to a fun breakfast with a friend.



One of my male coworkers was (is) like a brother to me; we were hired on at the restaurant around the same time, and over the six and a half years until this point in the story, he and I had become close and occasionally planned a breakfast outing to catch up on the events of each other’s lives. A week prior to this aforementioned Monday, he and I had planned to meet for breakfast at the restaurant where we worked – only I got called into work when another waitress went home sick. I didn’t know it at the time, but this was a game-changing move. One of those moments where the Universe intervenes because that particular event wasn’t in keeping with the greater plan.


Truth be told, if I had met my friend for breakfast on that previously planned date, or if I had shown up to the restaurant even a single moment later on the day we DID end up meeting, Matthew and I would have never met. My life would be drastically different right now. Funny how the smallest little decisions and changes of course can alter the entire plot of your life.


So on that Monday morning, January 19 of 2009, I woke up, got showered and dressed, and headed out to a 9:00 AM breakfast with my friend. Like usual, I was running a couple minutes late.


Once I arrived, I parked my car and walked across the lot and into the little diner where my friend Chris was already waiting in the line to be seated. We chatted for maybe thirty seconds before the outside door of the restaurant swung open and, to my surprise, there was Mrs. D! She seemed excited to see me and exclaimed, “Jenni! I know this might seem strange, and I know you have a boyfriend, but my son is here in town—we were just leaving, and I saw you walking up—I’d love for you to come out and meet him!”


I gave her a hug and laughed, saying, “Well, actually, me and my boyfriend just broke up, so it’s ok.”


I thought I’d humor her. Many proud mamas had bragged on their sons to me before, and if or when I ever did end up meeting these “handsome” princes, things were usually awkward and anything but a match made in heaven.


Mrs. D led me just outside the little foyer where we’d been waiting. Her car was a few feet away, and the driver’s side door was still open where she had gotten out. I peered into the car and there he was: the infamous son.


I’d be lying if I said I heard a choir of angels singing, or if I said a bright light shone upon him like some supernatural vision from God, but there truly was instant attraction. He reached over from the passenger side seat to shake my hand and said, “Hey! Nice to finally meet you!”


He had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, and from then on I was in somewhat of a stupor, which is not unusual for me when faced with awkward social situations (especially involving shockingly attractive members of the opposite sex).


I said something along the lines of, “It’s really nice to meet you too! I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, and I just love your Mom!”


Mrs. D mentioned then that Matthew was going home to California the next morning but would be back in a couple weeks. I replied saying maybe we would see each other again when he returned, and the conversation wrapped up.


But in typical Jenni fashion, I had to say at least one ridiculous thing before going along my merry way, so just as I turned around to walk back into the diner, I decided to poke my head in the car one more time and say, “oh, excuse me SIR? What did you say your name was again? I already forgot!” Yes, I called him SIR. And as soon as that word flew off my tongue I was mortified with myself. Why the !@#$ did I just call him “sir?” What an idiot!


He just laughed and said “Matthew.”


“Ok, thanks!” I replied. “Maybe I’ll see you again soon!”


They left, and I went back into the restaurant where my friend was waiting.


And just a couple moments later we were inside and seated at our table near the back of the little one room diner.


We ordered our breakfast and, after a few more minutes, the hostess walked up to our table and slipped me a little note. “That guy just came back in and told me to give this to you. He saw you sitting with Chris and didn’t want to be rude and interrupt,” she told me.


My heart skipped a beat. I unfolded the little note. Matthew had written his name and phone number and the message: Be back in two weeks. Would be great to hear from you!


I was shaking. I can’t explain it, but I felt like I was dreaming. My mind was racing with thoughts of how completely serendipitous this encounter was, but how completely awful it felt to be entertaining thoughts of another relationship so soon after my last one ended.


One of the waitresses at the restaurant, a good friend and mother-type figure to me, stopped by our table and read the note. She had seen the whole thing unfold, and the way Matthew had come back in and stared back at me as I chatted obliviously with my friend. With a knowing look on her face, she said “Jenni, it’s a God thing.”


And she turned out to be very, very right.


Mrs. D and Matthew both corroborate the story that, when they had left the restaurant after our initial meeting, Matthew matter of factly told his mother that I was the one. That he knew it. And she said she had always known it. She told him what I said about my boyfriend and I breaking up, and Matthew demanded she turn around. They came back, he scribbled his note on that little piece of paper, and he went back in to find me.


And I COULD just say “the rest is history,” but that really wouldn’t be doing the story justice. The part that comes next is half the fun! I suppose that sometimes fate might whisper, but in our case, it screamed. 




Chapter Three


Three full days passed after that fateful encounter, and the little note Matthew had left for me remained tucked away inside my wallet. I certainly wasn’t following any rule on how many days to wait before calling a guy; rather, I was feeling pretty terrible about calling him at ALL, given my still VERY freshly single status. My ex-boyfriend hadn’t even moved out of our house yet, and although I remained fully aware of that note and secretly wanted to call the number on it, I refrained. It just seemed so wrong to be having thoughts about another guy so soon.



Then, on the afternoon of the fourth day, I went to work and, as I clocked in on the register, I noticed a bright blue, folded sticky note with my name on it taped to the window beside me. I pulled it off and opened it, and there was Matthew’s name and number again, but this time in the handwriting of one the hostesses who answers the phone.


I turned to my manager and asked what it was all about. “This guy already gave me his number!” I said, confused. “What is it doing here again?”


My manager gravely told me that Matthew had called the restaurant and asked for me the day before, but since I wasn’t there, he simply left his name and number with the hostess. “Is this guy stalking you? Do you want me to call him?” he asked with concern.


I laughed and said I didn’t think so. But secretly, I was impressed with Matthew’s tenacity. He was interested, and he wasn’t beating around the bush about it. I liked that.


I texted him that afternoon and apologized for not calling. I told him that I’d wanted to, but it had only been several days since my ex and I had broken up and it felt a little irreverent to be calling another guy so soon. I said that I’d call him when I got off work that night.


The reply I received went something like this: Ok, little miss four days later! Good thing I remain optimistic, ‘cause it was beginning to look like I wasn’t going to hear from you! 


Matthew later told me that those were the most torturous four days of his life. He kept his phone within an arm’s reach and pondered whether or not I was playing hard to get or something. When he didn’t hear from me right away, he had called the restaurant (from California!) in case I had “lost his number.” Patience is not this man’s greatest virtue; I can definitely attest to that now!


I don’t want to skim over anything, but I also don’t want to drag this out for weeks. So let’s just say that I called Matthew that evening, and by the end of about a one hour conversation, I knew I had just met the man who would one day be my husband. I called my best friend the next day and told her so, which, naturally, was met with a somewhat apprehensive “umm… ok?” 


Truth be told, the relationship encountered quite a bit of trepidation from my friends and family, and understandably so. Everything happened so fast and so furious and so SOON after the end of my previous relationship.


Matthew was almost seven years older than me, had a successful career in insurance and financial services, lived states away, and still seemed dead set on ME. People didn’t trust him, and even I had my moments of doubt as things moved along at lightning speed.


During the week after our first phone call, we talked for hours every night. I learned that he was a huge fan of the book The Secret, just like I was, and he told me that he, too, tried to live his life by the principles of the law of attraction. Coincidence? I think not.


He also told me he had moved his trip back to Texas up a few days so he could spend more time with me, and our first date was scheduled for less than two weeks after our initial meeting. I remember getting a text from him just a couple days before he flew back down to Texas, and it said that he “couldn’t wait to have me in his arms.” I was a little alarmed by this, given that we hadn’t even had our first date yet, but I sort of loved it all at once. It was nice to feel wanted without that veil of pretense and cautious, “acceptable” behavior. Matthew is one of the few people in this world who throws themselves shamelessly and without hesitation at whatever they desire.


So we had our first date. I wore a little black dress with heels and a bright green sweater, and he wore jeans and a black button up shirt. We met at Starbucks, we hugged like old friends, he led me to the car he’d borrowed from his dad, and he opened my door for me like a true gentleman. He started the car and a CD began to play – all my favorite songs, one after another. I demanded that he admit he’d stalked my Facebook and made a CD from all my listed favorite artists, but he denies it to this day. Either he’s lying, or we just have identical taste in music. Either way, it was perfect.


And that evening began a week of “first dates.” We had dinner together several times, went to the movies, visited the nearby Natural Bridge Caverns and Natural Bridge Wildlife Ranch in San Antonio, spent his birthday with his parents and grandparents, and then said a very bittersweet goodbye before he headed back to California.


I think it was on the third date that week that I really fell in love. We were deep under the ground in the chilly caverns and listening to the tour guide as she lectured on stalactites and stalagmites, when Matthew wrapped his arms around me from behind and just held me there as we stood. I can’t explain it, but it just felt… RIGHT. 


A few days after he went home to California, on Valentine’s Day 2009, I received a very special delivery while I was at work – a gift that would turn out to be one of the most amazing and romantic things I’ve ever been given.


 Chapter Four 


In part three, the story left off just after our week of first dates and Matthew’s return home from California, and just before Valentine’s Day two years ago. I was at work that Valentine’s Day evening when a special delivery arrived for me via Matthew’s mom! I was too busy to chat with her much when she arrived, but she dropped off my gifts along with a gorgeous dozen white and red roses from Matthew. He had arranged all this before he left!


I waited to open my gifts until the restaurant was closed for the evening, but believe me, I thought about them ALL NIGHT LONG! Once the last customer had finally left, I sat down at a table with my roses, a large yellow manila envelope, and a wrapped gift. A note on the outside of a card instructed that I open the wrapped gift first.


In order to understand the significance of what comes next, you have to first understand my obsession with New York City. During those few weeks that we had know each other up until this point, Matthew and I had discussed how much we both loved it there, and how it is my absolute favorite place on Earth. So I opened my gift and found this adorable New York picture that Matthew had hand decaled with romantic little words:

My Trust – Rhuturaj

Vese to ye bat hai when i m in 11th class Un dino dosto ke saat milkar maine bhi socha q na thoda TimePass kiya jaye then i choose one girl from my whole class. Shayad use pata nahi tha k m to bas timpas kar raha hu bohot se din huye hum ek dusre ko like karte the par kabhi bata nahi paye.1 saal bad wo khud muze prapose karane aai par us waqt me vaha se chala gaya q k me janata tha ki me to bas timpas kar raha hu par y to scchi me mere pyar me pad gai to mene us topic ko vahi stop karana sahi samza…. Par us TP me mai kab use chahane laga muze b pata nahi chala kuch din bad..jub colge m sari day huva to use sari me dekh ke to i fully fall in love par mene to us time use na kaha tha to tabse u muzase naraj thi par muze itana vishwas tha ki 1 din wo mere saat hogi &3 years leter we meet in our Get Together and then finally usne muze apana no. Diya kamal to ye hai ki us time hum jaha bechade the & muze y trust tha ki jaha hum milenge usi jagah hum donar Maile near ‘ RANKALA, SHALINI PALACE, KOLHAPUR’

me use bhool jao to kese – sagar

I am mahendra pal sagar from sitarganj uttrakhand. dish- udham singh nagar disto me apni real love story likh raha hon.agar usme koi galti ho to chama kijiyega bat tab ki h jab 12th me padta tha. mujhe mere mohalle ki ek ladki se pyar ho gaya. mene useki taraf dekha to bo mujhe dekh kar ek alag tarah se fealing karne lagi. mera pyar bhi or bad gaya .but jab ek sal beeta to mene apne pyar ka uzhar karne ki kosis ki. mujhe dar lag raha tha ki kahi bo mana na kar de. or uske samne jake I love u kahne ki himmat bhi nahi ho rahi thi. Aakheer me mene ek love letter likha or uske beg me dal diya. but jab usne jab bo letter pada to uska koi jabab nahi diya. fir mene socha ki bah mujhse pyar nahi karegi to mene use bhoolna chaha. or me ek hapte shcool nahi gaya. ek din bo mujhe meri gali me mili to me ghabra gaya. lekin bo mjhse kahne lagi ki bo letter apne likha h menr ha kar diya. to bo muskurai or chali gayi. to mene socha ki ab sayad mujhse pyar karne lagegi.

me fir usi tarah uske sath rahna hasna karne laga. fir mene socha is bar uske pas jakar I love u kahonga to me use akele milne ko betab tha. Aakheer me bo mujhe apne purane ghar me akeli mili. me uske pas gaya or I love u kaha to ghabra gai or kamre se bahar bhagne lagi to mene use pakad kar apne pas bitha liya dosto karne ke liye to me uske sath sab kuch kar sakta tha lekin mene sacha pyar kiya tha. fir mene usse kaha ko tu mujhse pyar karti h ya nahi. to usne na to ha kaha or na. bhag kar apne ghar chali gai. or ab bo mujhse door jana chahti h .bo mujhse ab bat bhi nahi karti h. lekin dosto mujhe ek bat samajh me nahi Aati ki usne yes, no,kuch bhi nahi kaha. kiyo nahi kaha. mene kai bar use bhoolne ki kosis ki pr na kamyab raha. to dosto ap hi batao ki us ladki ke dil me mere liye payar h ya nahi plz e-mail this id my id is. ki kahte h lagi h bazar mohabbat ki har cheej bikti h . or peson balon ko nahi milti kismat balon ko free milti h.         mahendrapal478@gmail.com

~broken ……. – jazz

hi frnds I m jazz from delhi mere story ek small se love story he me apne life me full enjoy karta tha nd kabhe kese se serious love ni kiya tha nd ek di a gya ke me bhe kese ko love karne lga hum first time mere cousin ke married me mile the uska naam ritu tha mere cousin ke married the nd wo me ek lambe relation me (jiju ke sister ke daughter ) the mene use first time dheka to me vs use dhekta he rhe gya then usne bhe mujhe smile pass ke nd fir hum shade me ek dushre ko dhekte rhe or usne mere pass a kr mere eyes pr commet kiya mene lense lga rakhe the then she told ke apke eyes osim lg rhe he me bhut khus tha us time dhekte he dhekte time nikal gya nd fero ka time aya me punjabi hu to hum logo ko guradware jana tha but uske dad nd mom ko rasta nahe pta tha to hamne me uske dad ke car me rasta batana gya but unke car kharab ho gye or mere bad luck ke wajhe se mujhe akele jana pda dushre car me nd wo log wha pr ruk gye me raste me sirf uske bare me sochta rha nd jab me guradware se wapas aya to dheka ke wo raste me car thek karwa rhe the me jese he car se utra mene bike le nd wapas jha

wo car thek karea rhe the wha gya nd mene usko dheka wo ab bhe smile pass kr rhe the nd mene uske mom ko bola aunty ji agar car thek ni ho rhe to app log wapas chalo but again mere bad luck ke wajhe se unke car start ho gye aur fir wo log chale gye me bhut sad ho gya nd fir jab sab log chale gye to me soch he rha tha kya kru to mujhe ek idea aya nd mene uske Facebook pe id search ki first time me mujhe ni mili but fir mujhe kese be kr ke uske id mil gye nd mene use req send ke or fir 7-8 din ke bad usne mere req accept ke to mene use msg send kiya hii usne mujhe ni phechana fir me use pic send ke nd bataya ke hum shade me mile the to usne bola ha yaad agya nd fir humne number exchange kiye nd us din rat ko 4 bje tk chat ki nd usne mujhe bataya ke uska phone tut gya tha is liye wo itne dino me online hue nd next day mene use morning me 6bje call ke usne pic ke nd hiii Gud morning bola mene bhe nd hamare love story start hue fir hum bate karte rhe nd milne ka plan bna rhe the ke uske phone me mera msg uske kese frnd ne phad liya or uske mom ko bta diya mujhe uske mom ka phone aya or wo mujhe bhut datne lge ke tum ne ise ca kyu kre nd bhut kuch bola or uska phone bhe chen ke tod diya me bhut sad hua nd mujhe shamaj ni a rha tha kya kru ese he 2 month nikal gye nd me bhut sad rhene lga

fir ek din mujhe uska Facebook pe msg aya nd usne mujhe bataya ke uska phone uske mom ne tod diya he nd uspe koi phone nahe usne mujhe apne frnd ke num se call ke nd humare relationship again start ho gye me fir bhut khus rhene lga nd me use milne bhe jane lga wo bhe roj wo mujhe metro station pe roj milte nd mene use ab phone bhe de diya aurhum roj bate karne lge nd wo bhe mereko bhut love karte the nd ek jab me use milne gya to muje kuch ladko ne gher liya nd wo log mujhe marne ke dhamke dene lge nd jab mene ritu se bola ye log kon he to ek lagka bola ke me iska boyfrnd hu ye sunte ke sathe mere pero sr zameen nikal gye mene ritu se bola to wo unhe bolne lge ke agar tumhe jazz ko hath bhe lagaya to me tumhe jaan se mar dalunge fir wo log wha se chale gye nd me bhe fir mujhe uske call aye nd usne mujhe bataya ke wo uska x boyfriend tha nd ab nahe he fir mene use kha ok but tumhe mujhe ye bat phele he bta dene the fir usne kha ke me bol ne sake nd fir us din bad bad wo bhut different ho gye the hamesa jhut bolna nd ek din aya ke wo mere se bolne lge ke mere papa ko hamare bare me pta lga gýa he nd me relationship age nahe rakh sakte or merese bat karna bhut kam kr diya aur uske mom nd uske dad ko pta chala ke hum fir se bat karte he nd uske ghar pe bhut pitaye hue bd tab se mere us se contact ni ho pya bs me ek he bat sochta rheta hu ke is sab me mere galte kya the aur wati kr rha hu uska …………….♡♡♡♥♥♥♡♥♡♥

My Love Story – Rehan Ahmed

Love always finds a way in each and everybody’s life. Without love there is no life. Everybody fall in love at some point of time in their life, whether it may be love at first sight or maybe its friendship turned into love, or in some cases love after marriage. This is the way I fell in love with someone and I could clearly recall the day when I first met her. How could anyone forget the most blissful day of their life? And so it goes like this…

It all started on my first day of College. All that sleepless nights of studies and persistent hard work has finally paid off and here I am at the front gate of the most sort-out University for a Bachelors Degree in Commerce.

It was a breath taking experience; the campus was like a huge park. Everything was clean and well maintained. There were students roaming all around the place. Some were seated on the lawn and some were seated on the entrance of the blocks. I asked for direction and quickly located my class. Instead of getting into the class, I decided to take a walk around the campus as it is too early for the class.

I was awestruck by the designing and engineering of each block as I passed by, suddenly I stopped, and I felt like I never felt before. There were no words to describe it.
She must have been an angel, such a mesmerizing beauty, with bright blue dress; she looked like some princess who had just came out of my beautiful dreams. I stood there staring at her, unable to move a single muscle.

She was heading straight towards me and then she stopped suddenly and looked really worried. I came out of my shock and my senses started to take over. A group of guys who were standing a few feets before me have called her. At first she just stood there worried without knowing what to do and then when a short guy in the group yelled at her to come near to them she started approaching them – with a really worried face. I really got pissed off, I felt like kicking the hell out of that short guy. But, I was a first year student; I would probably be ragged and humiliated if I ever tried to voice against them.

I know that they would rag her and make her do some stupid stuff and I would not let that happen. I would prefer to die fighting them, rather than see her obeying their stupid orders. I made up my mind.

I pulled my sleeves up, messed my hair and went up to them. She was already standing near them, waiting for them to question her. I yelled “Hey you, Ms. Blue top” I quickly went upto her and dumped my books in her hands. “I want you to take them to B.com 3rd year class and place them in the last bench” I grabbed the ID which was hanging around her neck, it said “Alisha, B.com 1st year”. My happiness knew no bounds, I am going to be in the same class as her and we would be sharing the same class for three years.
I quickly controlled my emotions and in a high voice said “Not even a single tear. If I find any book missing or any marks on them, you are going to be in big trouble; you got that” I said.

Her face became sad and it looked if I keep up my yelling for few more minutes she’s gonna start crying.

I yelled again” You got that?” She shook her head lightly and went away. I glanced at the guys standing besides me; all of them were staring at me, as though I have snatched a fish out of their hands. I gave them a dirty look and went on my usually walk.

I located the B.com 3rd year. Nothing was there except for my books which were lying at the back end of the class. I grabbed my books and quickly strode towards to my class which was B.com 1st year. The professor was already in the class. “Damn I am late, I murmured to myself”

“Arriving late for first class itself?” the professor said.
“Sorry sir, I was held up by some seniors near the canteen” I replied.
“No excuses next time, take your seat now” the teacher ordered.

As I entered the class I saw Alisha seated on the first bench on the left, she was staring at me in disbelief. A little smile crept in my face and I went and seated on the fourth bench on the right.

The classes were interesting; all the faculties were really good in their respective filed of studies. They explained the subjects with great depth. I enjoyed each and every bit of information and knowledge that I was getting in.

Around 2 P.M the lecture for the day ended and everybody started to leave. I quickly grabbed my book and came out of the class. Alisha was walking fast, not wanting to encounter anyone. I yelled her name, she did not turn and I quick went upto her and stood in her path.

“Look, I know you are mad at me, but I did that to get you out of there. I never intended to hurt your feeling, but I had to do that, otherwise they would not have believed that I am senior and we both would have been humiliated” I said.

“You could have told that to me normally, why you had to yell at me back then.” She replied.

She looked like she is going to break down. Oh! Boy. She is an intense emotional one.
“Ok, Ok. I am sorry, I won’t do it again. You can punish me if you want. I really mean it.” I said.

“Its ok, I have never been yelled at, not even by my own parents. So it was hard for me, Anyways its ok, let it go” She replied.

“My name is Rehan, I’m from Xavier’s school, Kolar” I extended my arm.

“Alisha, Bishops high school, Mangalore” and we shook our hands.

and that was the beginning of our sweet journey.

Staring Me In The Face

The tray didn't just hit the floor. It crashed and smashed his lunch to pieces. Serves you damn well right, I thought. You were staring again.

     He stood stock-still and looked down at the food. Suddenly I got up and moved towards him. I hadn't intended to, hadn't wanted to help him. I called to the woman behind the counter. She closed her mouth and brought a cloth to clean up the mess. I picked up crockery, put it on the tray. There was a soppy stain on his trousers and through it you could see just how bony his knees were. Like the rest of him. All bones, dangling jacket and hanging trousers. Stooped shoulders and mile-long arms. Then he smiled at me. A wonderful smile that creased up his worn face and totally surprised me.

     "Thank you."

     I shoved the tray at him and went back to my table.

     I worked at a large publishing company and ate lunch in the canteen. I had noticed him because he stared at me. He was weird-looking. His hair was badly cut and his clothes were ancient and dull; too-short corduroys, baggy at the knees and colour-less sweaters, dotted with fluff. Often he sat alone and just picked at his food. Or he read and jotted things down.

     A few days after the crash, he stopped at the table I was sharing with Mark from proof reading, and asked if he might sit down. I said the seats were taken and continued eating. He apologised and took his tray off somewhere else.

     "What's your problem, Leanna?" asked Mark.

     "No problem. It's just that I like to choose who I share my mealtimes with."

     "A bit rough on the old chap though."

     I shrugged.

     It was Mark who told me more about him. He had gone over to scrounge a cigarette. By the time he came back to the table, I had my head stuck into the news-paper.

<  2  >

     "Interesting chap. Sub-editor. Been all over the world," said Mark.

     I decided to find the newspaper more interesting and finally Mark shut up and finished smoking.

     "Asked your name," he said.

     "He what?"

     "Yeah."

     "What'd you say?"

     "Leanna, of course."

     I folded the newspaper.

     "I've loads of work this afternoon."

     "Said you look familiar," said Mark. "Like someone he knew."

     "Someone he knew?"

     "Yeah. Could be strategy. Maybe he fancies you."

     "Fancies me? But he's old."

     "Only old enough to be your father."

     I grabbed my tray and left the table.

     I didn't do much work that afternoon. I kept wishing Mark hadn't said what he had said. Old enough to be your father.

     The following week I took along a book to read during lunchtime. When I got into the lift on my floor, he was already inside. He greeted me so I had to reply but I didn't smile. We were alone and that worried me. I wondered whether I should get out at the next floor and walk up the stairs to the canteen. Don't panic, I thought. Just because he's stared at you for ages doesn't mean he's going to do anything.

     " Well, I suppose one of us should press the button or we'll be here all day, won't we?"

     I'd been so busy wondering what he was going to do and expecting him to do something, that I'd completely forgotten to do anything myself. I felt like an idiot and this made me smile and I hadn't wanted to. He smiled back, his blue eyes crinkling right up to the grey hair at his ears and making him look ... nice. Then there was a slap. My book hit the floor. I bent down and so did he, and we bashed heads. At that moment, the lift shuddered to a stop and the doors seemed to fling themselves wide open. I was so embarrassed, I marched out of the lift, straight towards the queue at the counter. I ordered without looking at the menu and took my tray to a table where there was only one empty seat. I breathed a sigh of relief and began to eat. But the salad stuck in my throat when I noticed that everyone else at the table had already finished lunch and they were getting up to go. I glanced over at the counter. He was paying and in a second, his eyes would scan the room to find me. I ducked my head. Waited. Any minute now he'd sit down with his tray.

<  3  >

     Short Stories from Australasia. My book appeared in front of my eyes. His fingers were the longest I'd seen and his nails were manicured. I hadn't thought he'd bother.

     "You left it in the lift," he said. "May I sit down?"

     His voice was soft. Cultivated. What could I say? The tables were all pretty full so I nodded. He said bon appétit and began to eat. I'd always thought he picked at his food. But as I watched, I noticed that he selected small pieces, speared them and moved them carefully to his mouth.

     "Have you been there?"

     "Been where?" I was totally dazed. From dropping my book and banging my head and everything.

     "Australia, New Zealand."

     I stared at him and thought again of what Mark had said about me reminding him of someone. An Australian? Maybe an ex-girlfriend or wife?

     "Not such a strange question," he said. "You're old enough to have travelled there. And Katherine Mansfield, Janet Frame, are most likely in the book."

     His smile crinkled up his eyes.

     "No, I haven't and yes, they are," I said.

     That's how it started. He asked me a question, nodded when I spoke and then asked another. I was off, talking about reading, books and all that stuff I love.

     Days later Malcolm passed our table with his tray and spontaneously I said a seat was free. Mark stared at me and I felt a rush of heat to my cheeks.

     After that, Malcolm often sat with us and he and I discussed a lot of things. We spoke a little about ourselves too. I told him how Mom had brought me up on her own at the start of the Hippie Era. He said he had married during that time but divorced a few

<  4  >

     years later. Mark asked me how come Malcolm and I always had so much to talk about.

     "He's easy to talk to. And he reads a lot."

     "You two got so much to say, I don't get a chance to open my mouth all lunch-time."

     "You do. You shove food in."

     One lunchtime Malcom asked me if I'd like to go to a reading with him.

     "Um. Don't know."

     "Amelia Turner. Shortlisted for the Booker Prize last year."

     I wanted very much to go. But although I no longer thought Malcolm quite so weird, I wasn't sure if I wanted to go out in his company.

     "Afterwards, I'll cook us curry. Do you like it? "

     "Love it."

     "Me too. Settled then?" he asked and smiled his soft smile.

     It didn't surprise me that I nodded.

     After the reading and the curry dinner, I went into Malcolm's sitting room where there were more books than I'd ever seen on anyone's shelves. I began to read the titles.

     "Help yourself," said Malcolm.

     "Thanks. But if I read a book, I have add it to my collection."

     "Strange, same here." He waved his arms towards the shelves. "But look where it's got me."

     "I'd hate to be without books. They're ... friends."

     "That sounds like lonely," said Malcolm.

     I turned and pulled out a book.

     "Are you?"

<  5  >

     "Am I what?"

     "Lonely?"

     I shrugged.

     "Not really."

     "Not really but what?"

     My voice came from a distance as I tried to answer him.

     "I'm choosy about my friends. Don't have a great many."

     "I'm listening," said Malcolm and sat down, indicating the armchair opposite him.

     "My childhood was ... I mean, my mother loved moving around. She had no trouble putting down roots all over the place. I hated it! Books were the constant things, so I buried myself in them."

     "Hell, sounds familiar."

     I sat down in the armchair.

     "I had very academic parents," said Malcolm. "Was an afterthought, perhaps a mistake even. They loved me in their vague intellectual way but left me alone to get on with growing up. Hence the books."

     "That's lonely, too," I said.

     When I left, I took along a couple of Malcolm's books.

     My friendship with Malcolm grew but my curiousity remained. Who did I remind him of? My mother? If so, could he be my father? Although Mom had never bothered with books, our physical similarities, apart from my tallness, were undeniable. She had never told me much about the man who had fathered me. Clever, was all she had usually said. Once though, when I had been ill with chicken pox, and hot and scratchy, she had relented.

     "What was he like?"

     "Skinniest man you ever saw."

     "Where'd you meet him?"

     "In a park. I was catching a suntan and these papers started blowin' in my face. I was a bit cheesed off at them blowin' all over me and then this man comes runnin'. He grabbed and grabbed but couldn't catch them all. So he jus' stood still, a helpless look on his face. It was so funny, I started laughin'."

<  6  >

     "And then?"

     "I helped and we chased all over the place after them papers. When we sat down to get our breath back, he told me he was a student. He was ever so clever. Can't re-member what the devil it was he was studyin'. Somethin' I'd never heard of then or since."

     "Why didn't you marry him?"

     "Marry him? Good Lord, Leanna, I wasn't ready to marry and he wasn't the type I'd have wanted to marry by a long shot."

     "What else did he look like, Mom?"

     "Lord, stop the questions, child. Get some sleep."

     She saw my disappointment however, and said she would write it all down for me. Put it in an envelope to open when she was dead and gone. I was happy with that. On a wet, slick highway, driving to France for a weekend, she was involved in an accident and died instantly. I was twenty-three then and on my own feet but as I sorted through and packed up the belongings in her flat, I felt like a child again. I looked for the envelope but didn't find one. For a long time after, my mother's death and not knowing who my father was, made me feel as though I was drifting on a sea without horizons.

     One lunchtime I just decided to brave it and ask Malcolm who I reminded him of.

     "Met her while I was a student," he said.

     "Was she studying too?"

     "Oh, heavens, no. That was what attracted me to her. She was ... so different."

     "What were you like?" I asked.

     "Like? Much as I am now. Nose in books, bit of a loner. Not very interesting. Not for a live wire like she was."

<  7  >

     "Go on," I said.

     "She fell pregnant. I was very happy until she told me she didn't want my help. Thought she'd change her mind, though, as the pregnancy advanced but when I attempted to see her, she told me to leave her be. I was very hurt but accepted her refusal to involve me. A few months later, I took a job I'd been offered in New York. Salary was dreadful but I thought it would be for the best."

     "Was it? " I asked.

     "No. When I returned, they'd moved. Left no forwarding address."

     "So you never knew whether it was a boy or ...? "

     "A girl?" asked Malcolm.

     I nodded.

     "A boy," he said. "Had the approximate date and went to the Registry of Births to look it up."

     I sat there, trying to take in what Malcom had said. I felt as though I'd been flattened by a truck.

     "Somewhere out there I have a child I know nothing about," Malcom continued. "I was stupid. Rushed off instead of staying to have a share in my son's life."

     "I thought perhaps it was a daughter."

     "Beg your pardon?"

     "A daughter. Me."

     "You thought I was ... your father?"

     "Books, curry, I'm tall. We ... we like the same things."

     "We definitely have things in common but I'm not your father." He looked at me.

     "I'm so sorry to disappoint you, Leanna." I tried to smile.

     "We're not related but we can be something else."

<  8  >

     "What?"

     "Can't you think of anything?"

     "Uh uh."

     "Friends."

     "Friends?"

     "It's been staring you in the face for weeks." Malcolm's use of that phrase made me burst out laughing.

     "Let me in on the joke sometime," he said.

     "Okay," I said. "Tell you sometime seeing we're friends."

     Then I smiled. And my smile was as wide and warm as the one he smiled in return.