About five years ago, I was a reporter starting a new job with a regional newspaper.
I was living on my own in a new city, mired in a forgettable long-distance relationship and with zero acquaintances outside of work.
Times had been better. But, as often happens, just when things seem their darkest and you know that something has got to give, something does give.
|The only guy to visit New Orleans and not smile for a picture.|
While sitting in my office one day, I picked up a competing local newspaper to see if I'd been beaten on any stories on my new job.
There, smack dab on the front page, was a picture of a very, very attractive young woman. She was 23 and the director of a local Chamber of Commerce and, again, extremely attractive.
I knew that thanks to my job, I'd meet this young lady and I looked forward to it. I kept that paper beside my desk, occasionally looking down to admire that pretty face. It was a couple weeks before I finally worked up the courage to do what any good reporter would have done in his first couple days on job and acquaint himself with this local official.
When we did meet, her personality was every bit as striking as her looks. She was professional but warm. Beautiful but not prissy. Friendly but not insincere.
But the timing wasn't right for either of us.
|Not pictured: the canary I swallowed just before this was taken.|
As the calendar rolled over, I ran into the pretty girl at local functions. She was, without fail, friendly, helpful and charming.
And I was always smitten when we met, trying to remain composed but likely looking shell shocked. Months passed, and the paper with her on the front page yellowed, frayed and then, ultimately, was lost amongst the piles of debris that litter every reporter's desk.
And, while I could lament the loss of that frayed old paper, I don't.
Somehow, some way, when things got to their darkest and something had to give, the planets aligned, good fortune shone, that girl and I met again and the timing was perfect. That front-page picture is gone but I get to see the real thing every day. And, every day for the rest of my life.
Happy Valentine's Day Merey.
Editor's Note: We here at Blackwell's Mark acknowledge the overall mushiness of the above text and promise you a return to your regularly scheduled baby discussion tomorrow. Thanks for your consideration.