Our first meeting was at Applebee and we have been together since

I met my husband through my brother. They worked together as an engineers.

My brother took my photo in the office and said, “Does anyone want to meet my sister?” A guy spoke and said, “Can I see his photo?” I guess he liked who he saw because about a week later, he called me to ask me to go out.

I didn’t see anyone and I was a bit downwards my chance. I lived with my mother, having left my job as a full -time teacher after having endured a mental break. Two weeks in the psychological district had left me a diagnosis of bipolar disorder.

He looked cute

“Where would you like to go?” He asked.

I told him that any place would do the trick. I worked as an independent writer and wanted to get out of the phone. He told me that he had the telephone directory in front of him and could read certain places to see what I wanted.

My God, this man was meticulous, I thought. He reads from the telephone directory? Who does that? He looked cute.

He started reading the list of restaurants that started with “A.” Finally, he arrived at Applebee.

I had heard of, of course. Their slogan was: “Eat well in the neighborhood.” I told him that Applebee would be good. I just wanted to get it down so that I could finish writing my article, which was to be due the next day.

We agreed that we would go to Applebee.

I remember everything on our first appointment

I ordered a Caesar salad with chicken, and he obtained the trout. Rhode Islander native, he loved seafood. We got on well – I remember that he asked me questions; It was a bit like an interview.

I didn’t say anything about my mental health problems and he didn’t ask. I think my brother had not told anyone this detail about me. “And you taught in Pennsylvania?” “Yes,” I replied. Then the food came. “I work as a temporary office worker for the moment,” I added.

While the evening continued, I started to feel extremely comfortable with this foreigner named Stephen. I had a premonition that things would work in our favor.

When we finished our meals, he took me for a short trip. We went to Duck Pond by the cemetery. We got out of the car and tried to look at the Ducks, but it was black outside.

He led me to my mother’s house, and I got out of the car and I shook my hand, thanking him for a great evening.

When I entered the house, I woke up my mother and said, “I met the man I am going to marry.” She said sleepy: “Did it go well?”

We have been married for almost 28 years

About a month after our first meeting, he took me to Toronto, where I became a little maniac. At that time, he knew my diagnosis. My mania scared him a little, because it was the first time that he witnessed it. Basically, I couldn’t sleep for a few nights and I grove a lot. But we went home safely, and my mental state did not dissuad him from taking me to Rhode Island to meet his family.

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Stephen’s family wanted to know what I was doing in life.

“It’s a temporary office employee,” said Stephen.

“Well, that’s what I’m doing now,” I said. I am actually a English teacher. “”

“Oh really?” Stephen’s stepfather said, as if I was joking.

Three years later, we got married in Kent, Ohio. It was in 1997. We have been married for 27 years, 28 years in August. Meanwhile, we treated my breast cancer and my bipolar disorder and the autism of our son. I can’t say it was easy, but it was a solid romance. 30 years ago, my psychiatrist told me “this man will never leave you.” Yes, Stephen always brings me flowers.