It’s your garden-variety modern love story: Boy sees Girl. Girl does not notice Boy. Girl still recovering from recent heartbreak. Boy continues admiring Girl from afar. Girl still doesn’t notice Boy. Boy convinced that theirs is a love story that will never happen. Girl shows up as “People You Might Know” on a social networking site. Boy decides to send Girl a message. Girl only vaguely remembers Boy, who is wearing sunglasses in his profile photo. Girl writes, “Do I know you? How do you know me?”
See — the beginning of every love story.
He told me that we met where I worked as a resident physician. I had a vague recollection of him, an attractive pharmaceutical sales representative who visited the hospital every Wednesday. It was precisely because he was good-looking that I stayed clear of him. But he seemed nice and funny and, since I knew him from work, I thought it was safe to accept his invitation to friend him. That “accept” was the beginning of our daily, non-stop, almost hourly texting, calling, messaging, and chatting. I smiled every timed my phone beeped. I felt so comfortable with him. I enjoyed his company and we hadn’t even had our first date.
We decided to meet at a cafe. Before our date, I texted my sister: He is cute!
A cafe. A grocery store. Snacks bought at street-food kiosks. Mountain Dew drunk deep on a sidewalk. We laughed. We talked. He kissed me on my forehead. We went our separate ways. Smiling. I cried when I got home and asked God, “Is he the One, Lord?”
We texted. We spent time in the real world. I couldn’t text him back when I went abroad to spend time with my family, yet, every day, he texted me.
And every night, every night, a “goodnight.”
The day before her birthday, he proposed to her over dinner with a beautiful white gold diamond ring.