"It was 1957 when I laid eyes on the love of my life. It was winter. My parents were throwing a party, my 'coming out' party as I was turning 16. She’d invited everyone on the block, and the rest of my family had invited the whole town... There were so many people there. The party moved onto the street. That’s where I met him.
Robert Smith. That was his name. He worked in a car shop that his uncle owned. After the party was over, we exchanged addresses. See, the thing was, he lived in New Jersey and I in New York.
Finally, after two years of sending one another letters, I was done with school. I moved to New Jersey and there I studied nursing. Sadly, Robert’s uncle died that year, leaving the shop to him. As far as memory goes, his uncle was the only family he had. At three, his parents died in a crash. The roads were slippery. Snow was falling hard. Next thing, the car was no longer in his control... injuries were bad. His father didn’t make it. His mother, torn and scared, stood by the side of the road, waiting for someone to help them. By the time she’d been found, she’d frozen to death. She’d wrapped her coat around her child as well as herself at best attempt to keep her three year old Robert alive.
With my studying, and him now owning the shop, life became difficult. But we’d dated around our time tables as best we could. 3 months of dating, he finally got down on one knee and asked for my hand in marriage. I said yes right away and we married three months after.
We’d been happily married for three years. Three years of wonderful memoirs. I was still learning to cook; we mostly ate sandwiches the first year. We’d always found ways to spend a whole day, beginning to end, together. These moments will forever stay in my heart. In those three years, everyone around us had kids, or was about to. And each time I saw a mother and child I would cry. I wanted a child so badly. A child made from our love. A child that would be loved—so much. We’d tried and tried, but I was not meant to carry a child, or so we thought.
One winter’s night, the second biggest wind storm was approaching. A knock came at my door. Two police men stood there. Robert had been stabbed. He was closing up shop when he was stabbed “Three times.” they told me. He died before they could reach the hospital.
The first week he was gone, I stayed in bed, crying so hard form the pain in my chest. My heart did not break, it shattered. The second week I walked around in his clothes, convinced it was the only cure. The third week, I realized he wouldn’t have wanted me to feel so sad. For now he was with his family, and one day I would meet him again.
I went back to work, but it hurt to walk through those doors. I pushed myself to work. I skipped sleep and meals here and there. One day, my body couldn’t take it any longer. I blacked out. Waking up to see my family with a mixture of worry and fear for me.
A doctor came in, explaining that I needed to take more care of myself, that I shouldn’t just think of myself but my unborn child. I cried again, but this time the tears were filled with joy. We had tried so hard for a miracle like this, and, ironically, it was when we stopped trying when I had a child.
seven months later, I gave birth to the most beautiful baby boy my eyes had ever seen. Rob Smith, I named him, like his father. He was so wonderful, and so smart.
I’d never dated. I spent most of my time at work or with my new baby boy. My love was only for Robert, and now Rob. I couldn’t see myself with anyone else.
When he became 16, Rob told me he liked boys. At first I didn’t know what to say, and then I hugged him and told him I’d love him no matter what. After a few months I come to understand, but my family did not. They disowned him. Refusing to neglect my son, we disowned them and moved to Oklahoma.
There Rob met a guy named Steve, and they started dating. There were people in town that didn’t approve of them. My boy was beaten to death at the age of 17; Steve the other one lived but lived a crippled life.
Until this day, I’m not sad for them, because Rob finally got to meet his dad. Robert got to meet his family. And one day when it is my time to leave, I will join them.”
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Thanks for reading, thankis for not skim reading either.
Please point out my flaws, errors, misspellings, anything that would help me improve my writing thank you!