Dear Ben*
It’s 30 years since we met in July 1991. I was 20 and you were 22. With your gorgeously curly hair, you were so handsome. I used to tell you, ‘You look like a Greek god,’ which was true. Your face was angelic and you had the muscles of an athlete – even though you hated going to the gym. But you weren’t just beautiful on the outside, you were kind and caring too.
Remember how you used to make my favourite cheese toasties at 3am in the morning, when I came back from working at the nightclub?
FALLING IN LOVE
Our relationship was special. We’d met through a mutual friend. I was studying English at university and you worked in IT. I’d gone home to Harrogate, North Yorkshire, for the summer and visited a friend at their new house share. You’d just moved into the room downstairs and were in the kitchen making tea for everyone.
We chatted briefly about your job and my university course and conversation just felt so natural between us.
I visited you every day for the next week and we stayed up late into the night, drinking beer and talking. We’d both lost our dads at a young age and we bonded over our grief. I felt like I could trust you.
A week after we met we kissed and I’d never experienced anything so passionate before. We fell deeply in love after that, and quickly too. We were inseparable and even my family adored you, which was a first as they hadn’t been too keen on any of my other boyfriends.
Denne historien er fra January 31, 2022-utgaven av WOMAN'S OWN.
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Denne historien er fra January 31, 2022-utgaven av WOMAN'S OWN.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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