Relay: A Real Love Story

My parents met in New York City while working for the same accounting firm. I always thought theirs was a boring story: meeting at one of the most notoriously dull jobs, getting married six years later, having three kids, and living happily ever after.

All of the fairy tales and rom-coms told a different story: Boy sees girl from afar, falls in love instantly, overcomes seemingly insurmountable obstacles (usually in adverse weather conditions), and rides off into the sunset with his true love.

Where was the excitement in real life? Where were the passion-filled, standing-in-the-pouring-rain, tear-jerking moments?

Well, I thought I got my answer when I was 17. Boy saw me from afar, claimed to fall in love instantly, valiantly faced my disapproving family and friends, and promised happily ever after.

To make a long story short, let’s just say this one wasn’t Prince Charming after all, or even a toad.

Numerous blocked numbers, a few changed passwords, a couple of about-to-call-the-cops moments, and three years later, I actually got my answer. That excitement and those dramatic moments are exactly where they belong, in the movies. Maybe that was obvious to everyone else, but it certainly took a lot for me to realize.

So I reconsidered my parents’ story.

They’ve been together for 29 years, “Twenty-nine long, hard years,” as they always joke. Together, they went from two broke kids just out of college to homeowners, parents, and life partners. They did what they had to do, which included taking those accounting jobs, to pay off their student loans and pursue the things they wanted. They’ve had their share of obstacles to overcome — watching me quite literally waste away when I was 17, for one.

Clearly, things weren’t always perfect; to be honest, I don’t know if things are ever perfect for anyone. But neither of them expected perfection, or even asked for it.

I don’t pretend to know if two people are “meant to be together” or if “true love” exists, and frankly, I’m not interested. All I know is that every day that they’re not together, even days filled with anger, disappointment, or heartache, Dad always calls Mom, and she always picks up.

If I had understood their story when I was 17, maybe I could have avoided some things. The excitement might not have been there, but if I looked closely, I might have seen that something else was.

Kelly M. Stefanick is a summer intern at The Star.