Small Stories

This was fate-Small Story


This is a story that changed my life. A good way to describe it comes from the beginning.

I was 15 years old. I suffered from anxiety. I was growing up and educated at home because of some previous problems with traditional schools. My late mother and uncle (I remember, Uncle Bob) took me to the hospital. I remember tearing through my ID bracelet more than a few times because I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t know at the time but I needed help. This is the story of my whole life.

I spent 11 days in the children’s ward called P78. I met a few friends there and while I was studying at home who helped organize my story. Little did they know then how much they would affect me.


I need to go back a little bit for this to make sense. The friends I met at home school used to talk to me about this girl who they knew was called a “dictionary” because she was so smart. They always tried to get us together but to no avail. We were both upset with their efforts so they finally tried to trick us into meeting. I was brought to his house a few times but “never been home”. He did not really live with people and did not want to meet with people. They called her and talked with me a few times. Also, we were angry with their efforts. Shortly after that I was taken to the hospital.

The ward doctor praised the school, Eleanor Gerson high school. It is a troubled youth school. For children with mental health problems that can give them a problem in mainstream schools. My first year went normal. I made friends, got good grades, and was generally happy. In my second year I met him.


Flash is looking forward to the Freshman orientation of what has lasted as my youngest year. We continued to meet new children and everyone who introduced themselves and gave a little history of who they were. I saw him there. She had long black hair and was wearing what at the time was the latest gear from Hot Topic. My friend (who will not be named like many others in this story will not know him). He was telling me to talk to his friend and the girl to help clear the snow.

A few days later I got on the bus back from school, and asked him what he thought of his first few days. I got a cold response to the lines “I just got here, how can I get an idea?” He tried to push me away but it was too late, I was just beaten. A few months later he came with me to get himself new glasses. I felt brave and told her “she’s my girlfriend now”.


Over the next few years we had a few ups and downs but we stayed together for the most part. That is until he writes me a letter. Her past life and insecurity have hindered us from becoming “normal” lovers. He had to separate it in order to clear his mind.

I was exhausted, but I had to keep going. I was taking college preparation classes and finally had enough debt to come to school a few days a week. We met slowly.

I graduated and went to college. He left in the middle. I never forgot him. A few months later some of my college friends and I were talking about him on the bus home. I was telling them about the runaway girl. Less than a minute later as I was finishing my story, he got on the bus. I told my friends that it was him and they did not believe me. I walked over to him and we reconnected. We talked about how much our lives had changed since we last met and I went home with him as I always went back to high school.


We promised each other then that we would not let our old feelings ruin our friendship. I lied. I had to tell him how I felt. When I finally mustered up the courage to do so, he informed me that he felt the same way. The following January we stayed with his best friend at the same time. This was in January 2007. The other is history.

Now, 15 years later I fell in love when we first met we couldn’t be happier. We now have 5 cats together and have been together for the real part of our lives. I can’t imagine my life without him.

TL; DR: I met the love of my life in high school 15 years ago and we are still happy together. Faerie love stories exist. I am a living testimony.



Categories:Small Stories

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