Real love versus the stuff we make up…
For a while now, I thought I would do a blog post on real love, you know the kind we find out there as we go along in our lives, versus the stuff we writers make up in the stories that float around in our heads.
I can’t help it. I’m a romantic. One of the first things I always ask someone when I’m first meeting them is how they met their significant other. I really love those stories. For the sake of disclosure, I’ll tell you how I met mine: at Tulane Law School. Not very romantic when I put it like that right? But how about if I elaborate a little bit? I had moved from my northern existence to the great state of Louisiana, specifically to the Big Easy, to go to Law School. This was a big move for me. I was (gasp) twenty-two years old, straight out of my undergraduate existence (which was at a wonderful, but small college) of about 2000 people.
So the move to New Orleans was deliberately on my part a really big deal. I knew if I didn’t go, I would live within two hours of where I was born for my entire life and the last thing I wanted to do while I was in law school was to live (gasp again) with my parents.
My husband is New Orleans born and bred, with a brief jaunt over to Texas to go to college. He loves (as do I) New Orleans and would have been happy (as would I) to have lived his whole life on the shores of the Mississippi River. Anyhow, my second or third weekend in town, I went with a group of law students over the Biloxi, Mississippi to go gambling. It was three women and three men and we had two hotel rooms. By the end of the evening everyone had coupled off except me because I was not interested in coupling with the man who was interested in coupling with me. We drove home in my little Subaru with New Jersey license plates in the middle of the night. For the record, one of those couples that formed that weekend are now married and living in Florida so I, as a lover of romance, am not upset by the turn of events that weekend.
Especially, because as I decided I better find new friends, I would later that week hone in on my future husband’s (if he had been in Biloxi, Mississippi with us I would have felt differently about the whole trip. Needless to say, I had a crush on him from the moment I saw him in Contracts class) plans to visit an art gallery with his group of friends who did not go to law school with us. To make a long story short, I was late to meet them, he was leaving when I got there, and anyone who knows me knows I am almost never late. There is a lot more to this story. How could there not be? I dropped out of law school nearly a year later but didn’t leave New Orleans because I wanted to be him. We were married two years later and we have three children now and we’re back living less than two hours from where I grew up.
So knowing how all of my friends met their significant others, I decided to question all the writers I know on how they met theirs. See, this is fascinating to me, because we as Romance writers, spend a ton of time obsessing over the ‘meet.’ How the couple that will be our hero and heroine is hugely important. Not surprising, everyone has a great story. (My CP wrote letters with her husband, isn’t that romantic? Sigh. Husband are you reading this? Love letters…LOL. I joke. We have a twelve-week-old baby at home. No one is sleeping, let alone writing letters.)
Anyhow, what I found was that everyone has these great romantic stories that are so fantastic that if I put them in books the editors would tell me they weren’t believable AND I write paranormal so that’s saying something.
So I called this Blog today In Praise of Real Live Love because, even as I had assumed that real life love stories I would hear would be less interesting than the ones I read and write about, I found it to be just the opposite case. Fiction has nothing on Real Life in the Love Department.
How did you meet you significant other? Want to tell me? Is your love timeless?
Comment today. One lucky commentator will win a copy of Love Beyond Time, available now from Eirelander Publishing.
RR
17 comments:
Beautiful story of you and your hubby, Rebecca!
My hubby and I grew up one city block away from each other. I met him when I was 2 and he was 5. There are very few memories that don't include him...literally. He gave me my first kiss. When I was 12, I told his mom that I was going to marry him some day...and sure enough, 5 short years later I did just that. We'll be married 24 years in February and have two awesome kids. We live a mile from where we grew up. [grin]
What a wonderful love story, Rebecca.
Great post! My story is way too long and epic to post here LOL Suffice it to say hubby and I "knew" each other for 3 years before every meeting.
Everyone tells me I should write a book about it. To which I scoff and say why, it's not that interesting LOL
Long live true love!
Love your story Becca-no need to tell the bar story on your blog. My engagement story is much better!!
Hey everyone,
Thanks for coming by and sharing. Rosemary--Wow, since you were 2??
Sandi--your story is way interesting. Its International for goodness sake. LOL.
Lindsay-You do have a great story with such a happy ending. Love the pic too!
J-Thanks for coming by and liking my story!
I picked up my husband at a bar, looking for a one night stand. Three months later we were married. 14 years later. Go figure. LOL
I didn't know you went to law school. I realized I had no idea what you did before kids. I met my 1st ex the old-fashioned way, through friends. Since I say "1st ex" that tell you how timeless my love life is. I think there's a ticking clock when I meet someone.
Annie, I love that story. Just goes to show about how things happen when we least expect it.
Ari, a ticking clock huh? LOL. You just haven't met your Celtic Rhythm guy yet. Loved that book.
I love reading how people met their mates as well. My story, if I tell the long version of it, doesn't make me look very good so I don't tell it very often, but here goes.
I was working as a waitress at a pizza place while in college and my husband used to come in. He lived really close so he never ate at the restaurant, only grabbed a pizza to go and left. Regardless how short his stay though, I flirted with him (and I mean shamelessly flirted).
A year later, no I wasn't obsessed I just liked to flirt, he started flirting back. The first night he flirted with me I was wearing one of my college sweatshirts and he finally realized I was old enough for him. He swears he thought I was sixteen the whole time.
Anyway, we were married about nine months later and have been married for 12 years this November.
Chandra,
I think that sounds awesome. He thought you were sixteen? That is so funny. Poor guy probably thought he was crushing on a girl way too young.
Thank you for telling us that!!!
Rebecca
I am thrilled to see that I am not the only one who has known her husband all of our lives.
I met my husband at age 3, our families grew up together in the same small town, where they still live at today. My father built bridges while I was growing up and it seemed like everytime we got close, it was time for us to move again.
We both graduated high school and married other people, only it didn't work for either of us.
Our mother's were living across the street from each other when we both came home after our failed marriages about the same time.
None to say the least our mother's set up two heart broken kids. We ended up marrying each other and have been married thirteen years now, but to us it only seems like yesterday.
What a cute story, Becca.
I met my husband at work. He teased me a lot, but since he was married I didn't have any interest in him. It wasn't until his kids told him their mother was running around on him while he was at work, and she left him that he started pursuing me. Actually, not for some time after she left because he tried to get her back first. She wanted him and the other guy both, but her husband wasn't willing to do that.
Anyway, I had no intention of ever getting married, and this is where the pursuing began. I ran fast, but not fast enough. lol
We've been married 32 years now.
I met the love of my life when I was sixteen. He was a friend of a friend. At first, I wasn't too impressed. However, somehow, he just became more and more attractive to me. I realized that he had the most beautiful green eyes ever, his wavy golden blonde hair was soft and silky, and he smelled so good! He was funny, quick-minded and kind. Unfortunately, for reasons both great and small, we could not be together. Thirty five years later, no one compares. The first love is the deepest!
gcwhiskas at aol dot com
Okay here is my story. don't laugh too hard.
Love stories are not always romantic. .
I met her through my roommate. My roommate was dating her girlfriend and all three of them had grown up together. We were all dirt poor and I was the only one that had a car. We went out on a double date with them to a drive-inn theater. I’m sure some of you remember them. It was the only one in the small town.
It was our first date and it was a disaster. My roommate picked the movie. The ass. Everything you always wanted to know about sex but were afraid to ask. To say the least it was not an ideal way to spend a first date. The only thing I remember about the movie was a giant boob floating around squirting milk on everyone. Leaving my friend with his date in my car the two of us spent the evening in the snack bar eating popcorn, drinking cokes and visiting.
Our second date was not much better. I decided to fix dinner for her at my apartment. Romantic right? Wrong. At that time my culinary expertise was very limited. If it was not a frozen dinner or something out of a can I had little idea of how to fix it. The steaks were half raw, the baked potatoes were overdone. Way over done! The vegetable was ok. The wine was good though.
Despite our rocky start we continued to date for a year. During this time I did not pick her up at home once. She always came to my apartment. Her dad did not like me and I thought of her dad as a mean old German. He in turn thought of me as the red-headed kid around the corner who was dating his baby. She’s the youngest of four. I do not have red hair and never have.
He did not speak to me the entire time we dated. The first time he spoke was the day we got married. I remember his words well. In a gruff voice he said simply, “Be good to her.” Once her dad and I got to know each other he nearly talked me to death each time we got together until he passed away several years ago.
Thirty-five years later we are still together. We have two grown kids with kids of their own. She is my best friend and I cannot picture life without her. .
The timeline of how I met/married my hubby is very easy to remember.
I met my hubby on Jan 11th (my mom's b'day) my first day on a new job.
He asked me out every night until I finally agreed. Our first date was Feb 5th (my dad's b'day).
My DH-to-be proposed to me nine days later on Valentines Day.
We married two months later, on April 10th.
Turns out, he had seen me years earlier when I was 13 and he was 17. I had worked a fund raiser at the grocery store where he worked part time.
He can still tell me what I wore, how my hair was put up, who I was with to this day.
So the story goes (if you belive him) that when I walked back into his life four years later -he didn't want to lose me a second time.
I was 17 and he was 21 when we married. That was ten years ago. :)
Congratulations Joann Jones on winning a copy of LBT. Can you get in touch with me with your e-mail address?
Thanks everyone who stopped by to comment!
Rebecca
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