Do you remember how you met your sweetheart? Here’s a great “how we met” note from Terri Matthews to her sweeter half, reminiscing about their first glance, the first time they met, and how it eventually ended up with that sweet feeling in the heart, and a heartwarming good love story.
Dear Brian,
I’m so happy because I found you. And I’m even more happy because we’re both so perfect for each other.
We’re perfect for each other because we sleep on opposite sides of the bed. And perfect is somewhere in the middle, tangled in our sheets and skin, filling the air with the sweetness of my breath mixing with yours.
And it’s that perfect feeling that I wake up to each morning. And I feel so good! My friends told me that you and I are the perfect thing, and your sister told me that she finds us to be the only perfect thing in the whole wide world.
I wonder how we found each other, or if we had anything to do with it at all. Was it a chance encounter or was it fate?
Remember how we met?
A cocktail and a crowded club changed my life. Many years ago. It was a Saturday night, one of those days when every single person wants to party. I didn’t feel too good, and I didn’t want to go anywhere.
So I stayed back home while all my friends went out. And then Nikita came home, and pestered me to go out with her, because her guy was busy overworking at office.
Not wanting to make her feel worse, I reluctantly agreed. We got to a club, and seeing that it was full, we sat on a bar stool. A waitress asked us what we wanted. Or was it you? I know your hair was long then but I don’t remember how you looked. You introduced yourself and passed us the cocktail menu.
I smiled at you and when you walked away, Nikita whispered to me. “He’s hot!”
“Who?” I turned around. No one was there. “Oh, the bartender?”
“Yeah. He’s really hot.”
“I didn’t really pay attention.”
“Well, when he comes back here, pay attention!”
Bumping into you
You came back and we ordered our drinks. I wanted a daiquiri and Nikita ordered a ‘sex on the beach’. I smiled and thanked you. And after you had walked away, I asked Nikita about you.
“I wish I was single,” she told me. “I want to be single. I miss flirting. I just want to have fun.”
We just sat there humming, and listening to the DJ spin the records. You walked across me a few times, even though we were sitting in the far corner of the counter. You really didn’t have to walk by us. An hour later, you dropped the check, and we opened our wallets to pay.
Nikita held my hand. “You should write your phone number on the tissue. I would if I was single but I can’t so you should.”
“Should I?” I giggled. It was silly. She had paid more attention to you than I had, but suddenly I really wanted to leave you my phone number. “Do you have a pen?” I asked Nikita as I dug in my own purse. Neither of us could find one.
Call me gorgeous!
Nikita gave up. “Well, sorry! Maybe the next time,” she piped. But I was determined. I searched my purse again to find anything I could write with.
Nikita found a glittery lipstick. I looked at you, you were in the far corner. You didn’t see me. I doubled down, and wrote “Call me gorgeous!” with my phone number and my name on the tissue. Both of us read the message again, and started laughing! And we were holding on to our stitches as we walked out of the club. Many people thought both of us were drunk! And when we walked out, and got a blast of fresh air, we burst out laughing hysterically.
“I don’t even care if he calls. That was so much fun,” I told Nikita.
I dropped her home and drove back to my place, wondering what you thought when you saw my note. “Gorgeous!” That’s what I called you! You must have had a nice laugh about my choice of words.
Surprise in the car
Monday afternoon, after grabbing lunch outside work, I left my phone charging in the car during my shift. After work I found I had a missed call. It was from a number I didn’t know. I wondered if it was from you. Or was it a call center? No way. It must be a wrong number. But then, I had received a text from you.
“This is Brian. I was the cocktail mixer at Mar’s, Saturday night. You didn’t have to tell me your name. I remembered your name when your friend called out to you… And I also answer to handsome, not just gorgeous!” You said I had made your night so you decided to return the favor and messaged me in case I wanted to call you back. I couldn’t believe it. You had called. You had actually called.
“He called, Nikita! He called!”
“Who called… he called?! What did he say?”
“He called while I was at work. He texted me too. A really sweet text. [Read: How to text flirt] Nikita, he seems so sweet!”
I was excited but nervous to call you. I wondered what I would say if you answered and if we would have anything to talk about. I almost hoped you wouldn’t answer your phone but you did.
Falling in love over the phone
We talked for an hour that first call. I was lying in my room with my legs dangling above my head, while we talked. Your sister was bugging you now and then, asking you who it was? She was screaming into the phone, saying that you were blushing while speaking to me. It turned out that it was your last night at Mar’s, the same night when I wrote you that note.
You were in it for two months before you took up another job. I told you I was listening to music and talking to you. You asked me which song? And I told you it was Kenny Chesney’s ‘Back where I come from’, and you actually knew that song!
None of my friends ever knew that song! You also told me that you loved Kenny Chesney’s songs too. That song was stuck in my head for a week after we spoke that night. It still reminds me of that night, each time I play that song. You talked about your family and your dog and what you wanted to do with your life. I was really impressed. You seemed to have everything together. You knew what you wanted to do and you were doing it. I was a little intimidated by your perfect life.
When you said you had to hang up because you’ve got to meet someone from the family, I figured I had nothing to lose so I said “So… you said you wanted to return the favor… Is the phone call the favor or does that mean I’m going to see you again?”
You paused like I’d caught you off guard and I wondered if I had made a mistake. But then you asked me about my schedule that weekend. We made plans for Friday night and you said you’d call me later in the week. It was crazy, unbelievable, ridiculous… and completely unexpected.
Meeting my love, creating my love story
When I saw you outside the Hookah café on Friday night, I didn’t recognize you but I knew it was you because you looked how I felt. Unsure. I had guessed you probably wouldn’t recognize me either and when I saw you open your phone I knew it was to call me. I looked right at you when I answered my phone, wondered what you were thinking when you realized it was me. I hoped you weren’t disappointed. I knew I wasn’t. Not for one moment.
At the cafe, we smoked mixed fruit flavored hookah and had coffee. We had so much fun together. I thought you were stupid each time you lit up a cigarette and told me that the hookah wasn’t ‘strong’ enough for you.
We then followed it up with pizza at the nearby pizzeria. You actually pulled the chair back for me, just like you still do. It was a cold night in November but I didn’t want to leave. So we went back to the hookah café and this time we had hot chocolate and apple flavored hookah. It was almost twelve, and I had to get back home. Cinderella had to say bye-bye.
Apples and how we met
You walked me to my car, and opened my door. I didn’t want to get in. I leaned against the car and we spoke for a few minutes. You held my hand. I felt weak. And I wondered if things would get more awkward. And then, you leaned over and kissed me. Both of us just looked at each other, and I blurted out “You taste like apples!”
You started laughing. I love it so much when you laugh. It makes me so happy. We kissed again. We hugged and waved goodbye. As I drove home, I wanted to pull over and start running. I was so happy. And ever since that day, I still feel the same way about you.
You called me even before I got home. Or was it me who called you? No, you called me, and we spoke the whole night.
And we met each other again the next evening. We didn’t have any hookah. And when we kissed that night, it was just you. And it was just me. No flavors! And last night, when we had hookah and we kissed in the car, just before heading home, you tasted like apples. I remembered our first kiss. And about how my life has changed, with you around. I am so happy. And there really isn’t a single thing about my life I would like to change anymore. Well, maybe, if I could have, I would have used a pen instead of a lipstick to write a note. Less slutty!
Our love story is perfect, and I remember how we met like it happened just yesterday. And I couldn’t have asked for any other way to meet you, and fall in love with you. Love, Terri.
