Loving a city is strange. You love the memories, the friendly faces, the culture.I lived in Pittsburgh for a year but fell for it harder than for any other city on my map. I love it for the sports-team pride — the black-and-gold trifecta of Steelers, Penguins and Pirates. And then there’s the lingo — nowhere else do you hear “yinz” or “n’at. Like any city, Pittsburgh has its special foods — fries on your salad, perogies covered in butter. I love Pittsburgh for the summers spent at my grandparents’ house, and my adult days living life to its fullest.
On our first date, we were stranded without a vehicle and walked the two miles home. Halfway there, my knee dislocated, so he carried me the rest of the way. A year later, he proposed on his birthday, telling me becoming his wife would be the best present he could ever get. After my last major surgery, he took two weeks off from work to stay home and take care of me. Matt is an unconventional romantic. I may not get many flowers or cards, but they’re not needed. His constant chivalry is a testament of how truly devoted he is.
He was there in a granddad cardigan. I said to our mutual friend, “Hey, introduce me to him?” Instantly, the summer was ours, and we were falling, except…once the summer sun died, he had to go to Laos to work, and I had to leave for Ethiopia. Also, I had this other guy. Time, drama and eventually fate finally weaved us together. We gave in after the fights and tears. He is my man, and I am his girl; the honesty, trust and love between us is so great that it’s scary at times, but I couldn’t be happier.
I used to sit in the B400 lounge at my college in between classes. One day, this very handsome farm boy with giant boots on flopped down into the lounge across from me. The next spring, my aunt insisted on introducing me to some guy. I looked up at an oddly familiar face. I couldn’t help but think that I’d seen him before. Several Facebook messages later, we finally figured it out. The next day, we went out on our first date. Two years later, I’m having trouble convincing him that those too-big work boots aren’t dress shoes.
I hated Valentine’s Day, but we’d just started dating and wanted to spend time together. I met him in the school library so we could hang out, not expecting his surprise. He’d arranged a desk with romantic gifts: a teddy bear, a box of marshmallow Peeps (my favorite), a rose and a homemade card. I opened the card and saw the words I hadn’t expected: I love you. Then he spoke the words aloud and kissed me. Yes, our first I-love-yous were on the corniest holiday of the year. But it was perfect. And 2 years later, we’re still together.