What a great idea for a thread!
I met my wife in 1987. I was a junior at Rensselaer Polytechnic in upstate New York, and I was in serious need of beer money, so I took a job answering phones at the Dominos Pizza two blocks down the street from my frat house. The assistant manager was this skinny blonde spitfire named Tracy. I was immediately smitten.
Of course, I was a geek, and she was a social butterfly with suitors out the vent. We became friends, but that was all.
I went on to marry a woman in grad school. Moved to Connecticut. After nine years, that relationship was not working out at all. We divorced in 2003, and I found myself single, living north of Hartford all by myself. I remembered, however, that Tracy was from Springfield, MA, just up the road. And as it happened, I had her email address from a distro a mutual friend maintained.
I emailed her, asking how she was doing and if she wanted to get together for a beer. She responded, suggesting dinner. Five months later, we'd moved in together. Eight months later, I was on bended knee, proposing to her on the center of the Brooklyn Bridge's main span. Five years later, we're living together happily in a little cape outside of Hartford.
Dreams do come true, people. Sometimes it just takes a decade or two.
