“Before the term existed she proclaimed we would marry and had her mother invite me to a “playdate” at age eight. We were in the same classroom 3rd to 6th grade. When I moved we never communicated again. Fifty years later, I was deleting junk emails when Elkins caught my eye in the subject. Another classmate was inviting me to a class reunion, a class I never graduated with. Colleen? Oh, yes, she’s still around, recently widowed. She responded to my email with, “I’m nosy…” Within a month it was true love. Can you say happily ever after?”
I penned this for the New York Times – Tiny Love Stories. They didn’t publish it. Too many other submissions, mine not good enough.
We were classmates in third grade. Yes, many decades ago. Maine called to Colleen. Pemaquid lighthouse was the place, 2014. We returned last fall, the marriage still not complete. You can guess her longing and frustration. It was technical not reluctance on my part. We already live in a home together. Colleen chose our home in a day and I agreed from Saudi. People have said we looked “married.” I suppose we did. “Happily ever after” is not just in fairy tales.
Love is: “never having to worry about the wind in your hair.”