At one party I had listened to just about everyone’s story (and told my lack-luster one half a dozen times) when I reached one last couple. “How did you two meet?” I asked.
The guy turned beet red and bent his head down. His wife looked at him and grinned.
“That’s quite the story,” she said.
The two of them were part of a group of friends that had been together since childhood. At some point in high school, he realized he was in love with her.
He was afraid he’d scare her away if she knew he wanted to be more than friends, so his crush was top secret. He only told two guys, and they knew better than to tease him or mention it to anyone. You couldn’t torture the information out of them.
One day the group of friends were hanging out at his house and they started fooling around with a skateboard. The guy wanted to show off for the girl he was in love with, even though he had never been on a skateboard before in his life. It ended badly, of course; he fell and made everyone laugh. They stopped laughing when he didn’t get up.
He was conscious, but he was acting funny, and they thought he might have a concussion. They decided to take him to the hospital and helped him into the car.
When the girl leaned over him to put on his seatbelt, he stopped her by putting his hand on her arm. “You are so beautiful,” he said.
She didn’t know what to make of this. His friends who were in-the-know were mortified on his behalf.
The doctor affirmed that he had a concussion and gave his friends instructions to keep an eye on him. They brought him back to his house and stayed with him for the rest of the evening. He sat in a corner and for the most part quietly listened to the conversation, except whenever the girl spoke or laughed. Each time he heard her voice, he said, “I love you. I love you so much.”
He didn’t remember any of it the next day. When his friends told him what happened, he was so embarrassed that he refused to speak to her for months. Eventually, she was able to coax him into dating her. The rest is history.