This is not a story with problems (well, who doesn't have them) I come here so many times and read about problems, about pain. I want to tell something nice, something fun. and to invite you, let us tell each other similar things in this subject, because we need them. Because I think that among the problems there should be a topic in which to take a breath of fresh air. It all started with a missing comma. I knew him from mutual friends. We have been to the same table several times, but from one hello and some common things about time - we have not said anything else. Then he asked me for a friendship on Facebook. I had my previous relationship, which ended painfully two months ago, and I was not looking for a new man. So I turned down his invitations or just didn't answer. But he was quite stubborn. One day a bouquet of flowers "poured" on my door, a neat look and a charming smile, and he asked me, "Well, are you ready" I stared at him, wondering if I should call my father. He stumbled and muttered, "You told me to come," I remembered my last messenger conversation with him. He asked me "Do you want me to come to you and pick you up, somewhere around 7, for example, let's go out" I told him just to wait a bit, I closed the front door, leaving him on the platform and ran for my phone. I replied to him (quoting verbatim) "I don't think I don't want to." How many men have come to you with flowers at the door? I remember that for a negative time, I changed my jeans and blouse, combed my hair, put on some mascara and went out to him. My curious mother had called my even more curious father, and while I was wondering what to say to him, I heard my mother introduce herself, and my father invited him to dinner. I took the bouquet, handed it to my mother with the words "Put it in water" and we got out of there in the fastest way. It was one night ... like in a movie. We drank something, walked and ate a piece of pizza. He asked us to go somewhere for dinner, but just then we passed the pizzas and I just lined up at the counter. It was a perfect, fun, wonderful evening. He sent me home and kissed my hand ... And I was standing there like a monument and looking at my hand ... It was strange, nobody does that. Then we went out again and again and again. Our wedding is in a few months, and I have been living in his apartment for half a year. And no matter how many times I think about that "I don't care that I don't want to" - thanks to fate, to my keyboard or to my fast fingers, I missed the nasty comma. In time we talked about different things. then he decided he was tired of cutting it and asked me one last time. and just by chance I missed the comma. He read my answer as consent, called my girlfriend, asked for the address ... and ... we will get married. So .. be careful with the punctuation - I was married by a comma;) He read my answer as consent, called my girlfriend, asked for the address ... and ... we will get married. So .. be careful with the punctuation - I was married by a comma;) He read my answer as consent, called my girlfriend, asked for the address ... and ... we will get married. So .. be careful with the punctuation - I was married by a comma;)
1 goodfucker18 answered
It made me cry, wonderful story! You are happy :)