Categories: Lifestyle

Tiny love stories: “I saw a handsome man captivating the room”

Jack told me about his heroin addiction in a handwritten 12-step apology letter. It was so painful to read, I threw it in the trash. I only knew that his cocaine habit destroyed us when we lived together. Over the years, I feared finding him. Would he be homeless? Worse? Three decades later, camping alone in Florida, I remembered him showing me how to erect a tent and cook outdoors. I sent an email to an old address, to say thank you. I heard about it! Jack was sober, serene. Signed: “affectionately and always with love.” This note I saved. – Diane Daniel

As I write a social media post to commemorate your fifth anniversary, a mental montage plays: you twist chubby legs against a shifting table; You laugh your first laugh – pure, precious, sweet. In current reality, you put on an Owlette costume at Home Depot (fire-red mask, wings). Meanwhile, I fumble on my phone to string together a caption expressing what five years of you means to me (everything), to convey half a decade of moments that passed like sifted sand. I give up, look up and see you – the span spread, soaring confidently down aisle 9, the reds releasing at a distance. – Abigail Wasserman


As I looked out my dark Bronx window on the passing train, I knew I was finally ready to leave my broken relationship (for years, she and I longed to find partners of our own genders). Later that evening, at a friend’s party, I saw a handsome man captivating the room with his dancing. After sunrise, we were among the last guests. Robert and I danced together beautifully, and as he leaned against me, I realized I could never let him go. He moved into my apartment the following week. Last month we celebrated 34 years of love together. – John Perez

“Dad, when you die, who should say the funeral mass? You haven’t recently found a church and a priest you like. Is there anything I can do to help?” My father, Harry, 96, had just buried his 97-year-old brother, Bill. The Catholic priest saying the eulogy didn’t even know Bill. His eulogy was flat, missing the life of my uncle. Dad replied, “Sal, it doesn’t matter; I’m dead.” Somehow it was liberating for both of us. For Dad, it really won’t matter. As for me, our family will celebrate his life, his fire, his kindness and his legacy in our own way. – Sally Santen

Source link

Rachel Anderson

Rachel Anderson – Lifestyle & Travel Writer Produces engaging content on American lifestyle, travel, and food culture.

Recent Posts

NBA annual survey says Thunder will repeat, Nuggets’ Jokic as MVP

Tim BontempsOctober 9, 2025, 11:46 a.m. ETCloseTim Bontemps is a senior NBA writer for ESPN.com who covers the league and…

3 weeks ago

Donald Trump to present Ben Carson with the Presidential Medal of Freedom

Former Secretary of Housing and Urban Development Dr. Ben Carson, recently named National Nutrition Advisor at the U.S. Department of…

3 weeks ago

Federal health insurance premiums will see another significant increase in 2026

Federal employees and annuitants are heading into another year of sharp increases in their health insurance premiums, both under the…

3 weeks ago

Drake’s Lawsuit Against Kendrick Lamar’s ‘Not Like Us’ Dismissed by Judge

A federal judge on Thursday (Oct. 9) dismissed Drake's defamation lawsuit against Universal Music Group over Kendrick Lamar's "Not Like…

3 weeks ago

10/9: CBS Morning News – CBS News

10/9: CBS Morning News - CBS News Watch CBS News Israel and Hamas agree to first phase of Gaza peace…

3 weeks ago

Letitia James, who sued Trump, indicted for alleged bank fraud: NPR

New York Attorney General Letitia James speaks during a news conference January 8, 2025 in New York. Michael M. Santiago/Getty…

3 weeks ago