I wanted to share anonymously the love story of my life.
From my childhood I was a modest and obedient girl. My grandmother raised me because my parents worked in shifts at the factory and could not give me much time. She also put in my head the principles of morality and honor, which I carried through life.
In high school boys started paying attention to me, because I was slim, tall, with big gray eyes and beautiful hair. With two I even began to meet, but when it came to more than a kiss on the cheek, I went into defensive mode, and I drifted away.
Next was the Institute of Culture and Arts (Department of Painting). There were few guys there, and they were quickly snatched up by more relaxed girls. By the fifth year the whole class had already started scoffing at me, because I never became friends with anyone, while many of them got married and even had children.
After graduation I got a job at an art college, where I met my first love. It turned out to be the older brother of one of my students (Max), whom I met by chance and he was a very nice and well-mannered man. We took a lot of walks, socialized, got to know each other. He had worked in the police quite recently. I told him that I wasn’t in a serious relationship and that I was still innocent at 24. I was a little shy and explained that it was my upbringing and I didn’t want intimacy before marriage.
He listened carefully to my confession and at the end he made me happy by the fact that he reacted with enthusiasm. Said he was looking for a girl like me. He was in a sad relationship (that girl chose to leave for a well-to-do man). We dated for three months and Max started to say that it would be good for us to get married and live together, he said he wanted children. I agreed and we decided that within a month we would go to the registry office. But a terrible grief happened that knocked me down for years to come. While arresting drug addicts, one rushed at Max with a knife and stabbed him, from which he bled to death before the ambulance arrived.
For many years I grieved and could not find the strength to move on and forget this kind, sweet guy. Men perceived only as colleagues or relatives. By the way, I lived with my parents for a very long time. But by the time I was 38, I had saved enough money to buy a small separate apartment near work. I started a repair in it, changed the windows, wiring, and found a master of the ad for laying tiles in the bathroom and kitchen. Honestly told him that this is my first repair in my life and asked for help and advice. He traveled with me to store and advised me on what to buy.
I saw that him liked my appearance and noticed that he quietly finds out my marital status and takes interest in my life. He had a bad early marriage, and at the time of our meeting he was almost 40 years old. So one word at a time we got to know each other better and I realized that I had found my soul mate! We had common interests, plans for life, similar tastes in cooking, music and movies. And I decided to take the risk of starting a relationship. He was very surprised when he realized that he was my first man and he proposed right away. We quietly and modestly got married. And now, 4 years later we have two wonderful little children.
I am absolutely happy and have no regrets that I waited so long for my own man.
