Two years ago this coming Tuesday, I met a girl for a drink at the Fox and Hounds at Cheshire Inn in St. Louis. She’d contacted me through Match.com about two weeks earlier. I watched her cross Clayton Road. She moved like a dream–beautiful, graceful, certain. We talked for over 3 hours. I sang all the way home–40 minutes. I sang Sinatra and Lenny Kravitz.
We went out on Valentine’s Day, one week later. On that, most pressure-packed of date nights for men, Angela put me so at ease. We had a wonderful, romantic dinner, then bar hopped in Soulard and Downtown.
By April, 2003, I was completely head over heels.
Now, we’re married, and I never dreamed I could be so happy because of another person. But Angela seems to be a personal messenger sent by God to let me know that the universe can produce wonderful, wonderful things.
