Dear Readers: In light of St. Patrick’s Day, I want to share this story from “Same Boat,” who wrote a response recently to share the story of how he reconnected with his fiancee from 28 years ago. With all the twists and turns of life, his story is about as lucky as they get.
May your holidays be equally serendipitous! Dear Annie: Thank you for publishing my response to “Nostalgic and Regretful.” I wanted to share with you something I recently wrote regarding my fiancee and my love story -- our “romance novel,” if you will. We met in March 1994 at a local pizzeria.
I was a cook there, and she had just been hired as a hostess. At the risk of sounding cliche, I had never seen someone so beautiful, and to this day, only my children have ever equaled that sight. The attraction was instant, but it went beyond that.
Never before had somebody had my back the way she did. She was my staunchest ally, which I desperately needed at that time. For much of the summer of ’94, I was functionally homeless, sleeping on friends' couches or in cheap motels.
I barely had a penny to my name, and yet she never wavered. At the (quite appropriate) protestations of her family, who saw me as an 18-year-old bum, she always stood by me. But we were kids, and I was an idiot, fearful and insecure.
I listened to advice and gossip from some not-so-well-meaning people. Rather than communicating with the young woman who had been nothing but honest with me, I broke up with her, and in doing so,.