"Every great love starts with a great story." The Notebook

We were at a party in New Jersey. He was in the dinner line with a mutual friend, and I was walking up with a plate in hand. She looked at me and said, like I’d been waiting my whole life for this, “Berline, this is Sebastien…” Then it clicked. She had mentioned him before. I noticed his smile right away and those gorgeous eyes. I may or may not have smiled back with some twinkly eyes too and said, “Oh hey! I am starving, I’ll find you later and give you a hug.” After I ate, I started dancing on my own. Then we caught sight of each other. I don’t remember if I reached for his hand first, but who cares? I was already dancing. He had a jacket in his hand, so we danced like that. I thought, “Oh he can dance!” I kept trying not to hog him, stepping away here and there so I wouldn’t look weird. After a while, he asked for my contact. I gave him my number and ran to tell a friend. And throughout our dances? I felt like I was dancing with my husband celebrating our 50th wedding anniversary. CRAZZYY. Still, I thought nothing of it. I said to myself that he probably just wanted to be friends and kept dancing the night away. Eventually I sat down to wait for the girls and then I heard the DJ announce the last song. I looked up, and there he was, turning toward me, hand out, asking for the last dance. By the end of the song, Mr. Bold asked for a picture and asked when I was coming to Florida. I said, “Why you wanna know lol,” and brushed it off. Told him I just came from there. I asked him to send the pictures, said my goodbyes, and had no intention of anything else. So I thought. The next morning he messaged me early, asked if I got home safe, and told me I was a good dancer. (Okay, period.) I’m like, we had fun, we’re going to wrap this up lol. Then he hit me with, “Catching my flight home, so I’ll talk to you when I land, if that’s okay with you.” I responded, “Hehe thank you!! And no worries at all, I live a pressure free life!!! Safe travels.” My way of brushing him off. That night he messaged, “I made it.” Trying to keep my gangster lifestyle, I thumbs-upped the message and kept it moving. But my poor soul could not take it. That “if that’s okay with you” haunted me. So I listened to my crying conscience, messaged him the next morning… and well, the rest is history.

I flew to New Jersey for a weekend to attend a party I’d been invited to. When I arrived, I met up with a mutual friend and stood in the food line with them. As Berline walked by with a plate of food in her hand, our mutual friend, who happened to be her roommate, stopped her and said, “Hey, this is Seby.” You could tell Berline was a bit confused since we had never met and she couldn’t quite place my name. Once we realized we’d heard of each other before, we smiled and acknowledged it. Berline said, “Well I’m hungry, I’ll come find you later to give you a hug.” We went our separate ways until it was time to dance. By then, I had split off for a bit from the group I came with and was standing by myself. It was warm, so I had taken off my suit jacket and was holding it in my hand. I was enjoying the music when I saw her again. She was moving freely around the room, clearly having a good time, until she reached me. She reached out her hand, maybe for that hug she had promised, but I took the opportunity and started dancing with her. We danced a few songs. And when she slipped away, I somehow found her again. I told her she was a great dancer and she said, “I’m just following a great leader.” Her radiant smile said it all, and I started thinking to myself, maybe she likes me. During one of our dances that night, I asked what her thoughts were about ever moving back to Florida. She looked surprised. She had no plans to return, not anytime soon, so she thought. I also asked how we could stay in contact, if she preferred giving her Instagram or phone number. She said it didn’t matter, so I pulled out my phone and had her type in her number. We went our separate ways again until the DJ announced the last song. Knowing this would be my last chance to talk to her, I looked around and found her again. We danced the final song together, and afterward I asked someone to take a picture of us. I told her I’d send it to her. Bright and early the next morning, I texted her to see if she made it home safely. We exchanged a few messages and I sent the picture from the night before. I told her I was flying back to Florida and would let her know when I landed, but only if she accepted. Later that evening, I texted, “I made it.” She didn’t respond but reacted with a thumbs up. The next morning, she texted me back. And the rest is history.