A very beautiful story from life. "love story"

Preparing for family life- better late than never: distance (online) course

We are neighbours. He believes in God, goes to church and even plans to become a priest. He is so funny - angular, out of date, always enthusiastic, embarrassed. Him amazing eyes- cornflower blue, deep and sad. My mother calls him Pierrot. In my opinion, very accurate!

Our friendship began when I undertook to write a term paper on the history of the Church, and he volunteered to help me. I also consider myself a believer, I go to church. Recently, while re-reading my diary, I found the following words in it: “The Church is the only place where I feel complete peace of mind" And indeed it is. But how different my faith is from his! Mine seems bright and life-affirming to me, but his... He’s so reserved and reserved, as if he’s constantly watching himself.

He seems to like me. How awkwardly he dodges my playful hints older sister, and the next day he comes again and sits until late in the evening... “Mother,” my sister teases me, and this joke makes us both laugh until we cry.

Of the poets, he likes Gumilev the most. Me too. We even have the same favorite poems. He is a lyricist. but it’s as if he’s ashamed of this and doesn’t let his song-craving soul go free. This feature surprises and outrages me most of all. What bothers him, because he is not a bore at all. What is he afraid of, why does he constantly restrain himself?

The windows are wide open. The aroma of lilac mixed with the smell of young leaves and wet asphalt is dizzying. Thinking about studying, about the session... Impossible! I rush into his apartment:

Spring is rushing into Moscow mansions... What air, what May! Let's run to the park!

I can not. Today is Saturday - all-night vigil.

For a moment I freeze in a daze. Why, why is he like this?!..

However, curiosity and passion for experiments take over - I trudge with him to church for the all-night vigil. The splendor of the decoration and the beautiful singing briefly take over: there are tears in my eyes, I repent of my frivolity. But after a quarter of an hour, like a bird caught in a cage, I look longingly out the open window - it’s May... How monotonous reading, the smell of incense and serious faces do not combine with nature frantic in the spring frenzy. What is he? Just attention. “Like a candle,” I note in my mind.

Finally the service is over. The heavy standing is forgotten, the soul is light. He smiles. “What a wonderful evening, nature seems to echo the service...” Echoes?? NATURE echoes SERVICE???.. Lord, how different we are!

Autumn. He is already studying at the seminary. I’m wearing a bright jacket, the most fashionable trousers, and carefully curled curls curl from under an elegant hat. long hair. In the Lavra, everyone turns to me.

How glad he is to meet you, and how his brand new black seminary jacket suits him... He quickly and diplomatically takes me outside the monastery. “What an outfit you’re wearing!” - "I do not like?" - “I like it very much, but the Lavra won’t understand it.” My face stretches out in surprise: “Why?!..”

We wander through an abandoned park, drowning in yellow and red snowdrifts autumn leaves, spread them with our feet, collect bouquets. The old swing boats, despite their pitiful appearance, fit surprisingly well into the golden splendor of the park.

Shall we swing? - he suddenly offers.

Fiery trees, a gray sky, a pond, monastery walls - everything is rushing like a whirlwind. Flying is freedom, this is bliss! “Vladyka Rector should have seen me!” - he laughs.

On a fine autumn evening, when the smell of burnt leaves drowns in the purple jelly of the twilight, and the heart aches with unaccountable sadness, we walk along the walls of the Lavra.

Look, I seem to be confused in my religious quest. Why is it necessary to narrow everything down - after all, all religions, by and large, talk about the same thing?

If you look at Christianity as a set of moral rules...

How else can you watch?!

And you get baptized and you’ll find out,” he fell silent. Then he continued:

Christ is Christianity. Christ, not abstract rules. You and I meet so many people in our lives. And only one becomes more valuable than the others - like half of you. Why exactly did this person, why did he fall in love with him, believe him? Why? Don't know. “Only the heart is vigilant. You can’t see the most important things with your eyes.”

Only the heart is vigilant...

The day of my baptism was grey, truly wintery. Here is the temple - small, rural, wooden, cozy. There are regulars at the door, church grandmothers: “Give it to me, daughter!” The chorus of unctuous voices is suddenly interrupted by an old woman in a bright green scarf: “Why is this a ruble for me! Everyone gets two, and I have a ruble?!” ...My bright, solemn spiritual state is crushed by one phrase! These grandmothers will drive anyone away from church!

There are about ten people being baptized, from young to old. “In the name of the Father. Amen. And the Son. Amen. And the Holy Spirit. Amen". I stand among others, repeating like a spell: “Now, now I am a Christian” - and nothing! It seems to me that the priest will say some last, most important “Amen”, and I will feel that I have become completely different. I'm trying to take a closer look at myself... No, still the same. It's kind of a shame.

I'm going to the bus stop. A familiar green scarf looms near the church fence. “Help, daughter!” - says the grandmother... And I suddenly notice that both her lips and hands are completely blue from the cold.

In winter, he came home quite rarely, and when he arrived, he would drop in for some 10-15 minutes and disappear again. “So our... our friendship is over,” I thought. Only sometimes on Sundays he invited me to the Lavra, and everything became as before - jokes, memories and conversations...

Early Sunday morning. I put on the only toe-length skirt in my wardrobe and tie a scarf on my head. “Who do you look like?!” - parents laugh. Today he is waiting for me, so forward, on a cold train past snow-covered villages to Sergiev Posad, and then along the creaking sparkling snow straight to the Lavra. The mighty domes of ancient cathedrals, like Atlantes, support the low gray-blue sky. The bell strikes steadily and loudly. Flocks of birds soar into the air, and a screaming carousel soars above the bell tower.

Life in the Lavra is subject to some special rhythm and is imbued with a special atmosphere. I get inside, and my toes automatically come together, my eyes go down, and with a small mincing gait I head towards him. “Well, you’re just like a real mother!” I’m all shining - I want to be at least a little involved in these cathedrals, this ringing, this new, still incomprehensible, but for some reason alluring life. She doesn't seem gloomy anymore.

Much has been experienced, changed, and felt this snowy winter. Then there was the first confession, the first Lent, the first - real - Easter. “Why are you a jumping firefly, don’t you jump anymore?”

And it's May again. I'm sitting at open window unable to tear myself away from the spring allegro. Again and again, “The Poems of Yuri Zhivago” haunts me:

And the same mixture of fire and horror

In freedom and in living comfort

And everywhere the air is not itself...

Doorbell. On the threshold - he, in some kind of Little Russian white shirt with an embroidered ornament. “Just like the groom, only there aren’t enough flowers,” I chuckled in my heart. An hour passed, then another. Now, he’ll finish his tea and start saying goodbye... “Yes, by the way, I wanted to ask you something, that’s what I actually came for.” Oh, that’s why he came - my heart sank painfully. But immediately my bitter thoughts were interrupted. Because he suddenly said, very softly and quietly:

Marry me...

My husband is ten years younger than me. When we met, I was 30, he was 20, but now I’m closer to forty, and he’ll only be thirty, and jealousy is starting to gnaw at me.

He works in an office where the team is predominantly female. Sometimes they call him in front of me, and Dima is always very kind, always polite. And sometimes it seems to me that this is a deliberate politeness so as not to be suspicious. I’m just constantly screwing myself up, I’m screwing myself up. He hugs me and calls me the most beautiful, but I still have doubts... not even so much doubts as self-doubt, that I am attractive to him. You can’t fool the mirror, you’re not a girl anymore. And they didn’t raise enough children to have something to keep them...

I am what is commonly called a woman of Balzac’s age. In case it’s not clear to anyone, I’m in the prime of my life. Well, in the juice itself, that is. A month ago I ended a very unusual relationship in my life. I broke up with an analog music lover. He is 6 years older. We met at work.

I'll tell you the story of how I met my future husband. It was winter, the frostiest, four years ago. I had to go by bus to a neighboring city, to visit a friend. I arrived at the bus station in advance, bought a ticket, sat and waited for the bus. At the appointed time he arrives, I go to board. I rise to my seat and see that it is occupied. A nice guy is sitting in my place, comfortable, and doesn’t take off his headphones.

Who would have thought that the hard way would bring me to this women’s site, but since I did, I’ll share my slightly strange story.

I’ll say a few words about myself: handsome, stately, smart, single, soon to be thirty. Joke. But I'm actually going to be thirty years old soon.

On New Year not easy hanging out with a friend (also single). We celebrated New Year's Eve together cheerful company. What I like about such gatherings is that you can easily meet a pretty lady. And I met. Her name was Susanna, or she was Jewish, or Kabardian... I don’t know. A very pretty girl, moderately modest, moderately sociable. What struck me about her was her ringing laughter, slender legs and beautiful eyes.

Sounds pretty rude, I agree. In fact, I'm not a materialistic bitch looking for wallet men. But I'm so tired of beggars...

I am 36 years old and alone. She was married, but divorced. Left with ex-husband in fairly tolerable terms. They divorced without any scandals. Four years ago we realized that we were simply not suitable for each other. Well, completely different. And my husband wanted a child from me, but I am not able to give birth.

Back in 1984, I met my future ex-husband. He did his military service in Kuibyshev, now Samara, and I lived there all my life. We met for about six months - for me it was my first love. When Sasha’s service ended, he proposed to me and invited me to Altai with him. He said that we would have a wedding, live with his parents, and slowly build a house for ourselves in his village. He remembered his native land with such love that I also fell in love with that outback.

Beautiful stories about romantic relationships. Here you will also find sad stories about unrequited, unhappy love, and you can also give advice on how to forget ex-boyfriend or ex-wife.

If you also have something to tell about this topic, you can absolutely free right now, and also support other authors who find themselves in similar difficult life situations with your advice.

My husband and I have been living together for almost 10 years, together for 13 years. We lived well, had children, two boys. Everything seemed to be fine, but six months ago we had a very strong fight and he left.

I didn’t say where he lived, but we talked and didn’t forget the children, and the other day we had a serious conversation, where he admitted that he had someone, he had been dating for two months already.

After the woman I loved left, I turned my attention to achieving my own goals, which were far from creating new relationships. I didn’t want to live in the usual way. The banal desire to leave and escape from painful memories overpowered the desire to find new love.

For five years I lived according to my own schedule. My day started at 4 am. Cruel, inhuman exhaustion own body by running 20 km with weights, wearing ankle boots, a vest and a gas mask. Further work in the metalworking shop. After work martial arts(Combat Sambo). On the weekends I studied part-time to become a chief civil engineer and I definitely enjoyed it. From time to time I read scientific literature and books on antiquarian subjects.

I want to dedicate my confession to a man known by everyone, or almost everyone, by the nickname “Stranger.” I will try to tell in detail what prompted me to write my story.

More than six months ago, when quarrels began with my husband, trying to find answers to my problems on the Internet, I accidentally found the “Confession” website. Reading the comments, I saw the Stranger, not so much his mysterious avatar, but his statements, his points of view at some point came into contact with mine, touching my soul. I’m not talking about love, I love one man in my life, this is something spiritual to some extent or at the level of energy emanating from a person.

I won’t say that I consider myself one of his fans, since my attitude towards him is still twofold: I understood some of his statements, while others sometimes outraged me, but I learned from many of his views on life for myself. Has my personal life improved? It's not perfect yet, but it probably won't happen. A stranger is like a kindred spirit, without seeing his face, appearance, without knowing his age, just from his very presence on the site, even the site lives, in my opinion, a different life (women are charmed, men argue about interruptions). His comments are read by a special voice inside me. And during all the time on the site I could no longer feel what you felt when the Stranger commented.

Three years ago, a girl got a job at the company where I worked who fell into my soul on the very first day. We communicated well, there was mutual sympathy. I fell into the so-called friend zone. She constantly complained to me about her boyfriend, with whom she lived at that time.

This went on for about six months, then she cooled off towards me. After another six months, I left for another company, but it turned out that this company was located in the same building only in a different wing. We saw each other occasionally, but didn't really communicate, but she let me know that she had broken up with her boyfriend. Then I had serious health problems, and we did not see each other for quite some time.

I had a relationship with a guy. We met with him for a long time. We wanted a child and a family, and in principle everything was going towards this, but in the end, for some unknown reason, we separated. Six months later I met another guy. We started dating. Everything is very good, but after three months of the relationship I find out that I am pregnant - 34 weeks. True, I didn’t know that I was pregnant. It turns out that when we met, I was already five months pregnant.

When I found out about my situation, I was very sick. And I found out about the pregnancy because I decided to do an ultrasound of the abdominal cavity. Because something was wrong with my stomach. All signs showed intestinal inflammation. But I didn’t go to the hospital, I decided to do an ultrasound first. As a result, they tell me that I am pregnant. I'm shocked. I was told to urgently go to the clinic and register, since the deadline is long and this needs to be done urgently.

I have been living with a girl for 4 months, we have been dating for six months. We met at work, she was my boss. At that time, she was dating her boyfriend, with whom she had been together for four years and they had a two-year-old child together.

At work we often looked at each other and nothing more, she is a year older than me, plus the boss, so I didn’t count on anything. Everything turned out to be corporate, we drank a lot and she dragged me to a slow dance, we started hugging each other and almost kissing. After the dance, I invited her to leave, we went out, stormy kissing began, we went into a cafe, agreed that we would wake up in the morning and then see what would happen.

I woke up in the morning and realized that I wanted to be with her. I started pursuing her and said that I would take her from him (by the way, he is also my colleague). As a result, we saw each other in secret for a month and she left him. She left because she was tired of him without action, he is 28 years old, and there are no goals in life, and she did 80% of all the tasks in the family.

The guy is 27 years old, I’m 22. He sought me and my attention for a long time. Gifts, flowers, restaurants, compliments, joint conversations about the future. He said in every possible way how he wanted to be with me Serious relationships and that he wants to live together. He said that I was the best best girl, he so wanted to find someone like me - kind, good, beautiful and smart.

I’m reading in the maternity hospital because I’m completely confused and don’t know what to do with my emotions, I googled it and came across your confession.

A few days ago I gave birth to a girl, my first boy is now 6 years old. The first child was spontaneous, and when he was born, I did not experience universal love, I even remember crying on the second day and telling my mother that I didn’t love him. But I don’t know when this happened, but now, especially with the birth of my second girl, I realized that I love him to bits. He is an extraordinary boy and there is no one better than him.

I want to tell you about my mutual love. I think every person has fallen in love unrequitedly at least once, and I think this is completely normal. Having gone through this, I learned to distinguish sympathy from falling in love and desire.

I've always been very skeptical about falling in love with school years and I myself fell into this trap. All my life I have been a very sociable person, but at the same time I am always lonely; I have not yet found a single person in whom I saw someone with whom I could be myself, relax and share thoughts. And now I’m not talking about a guy, but about a friend, a person who would support me, would always be there and help with advice when I need it.

Being within myself, I did not notice those around me and thought that communication and falling in love were nonsense invented by cinema. And so I fell in love. As it seemed to me then, forever. It was like an obsession, I felt alive, happy just from seeing this man. Despite the fact that we didn’t even know each other. I fell in love with the image I created. Handsome, curly-haired, kind and sociable, he seemed to me the ideal person. He became the incentive and meaning of life for me, I always tried to be on top, to take care of my appearance, speech and behavior.

Romantic and touching stories O true love, which is not afraid of long separation and old age.

60 years of separation

Anna Kozlova had been married for only three days when she had to say goodbye to her husband: Boris was leaving to fight in the Red Army, and she had to wait for his imminent return - or so it seemed to them then.
While Boris was fighting, Anna and her family were exiled to Siberia during Stalin's repressions, and Anna could not even send news to her husband, and Boris was looking for his wife long years. They were from the same village, but Anna was forbidden to come there, so they lost contact.
Anna even had thoughts of suicide - her despair was so great. Her mother then destroyed all memories of life together spouses - souvenirs, wedding photographs, letters. In the end, Anna married for the second time, Boris did the same. They knew nothing about each other.
Years passed and their spouses died. And then, 60 years later, something miraculous happened: Anna finally managed to come to her native village of Borovlyanka, where she saw an old man at the opposite end of the street - it was Boris. He came to the village to visit the graves of his parents and saw Anna. He recognized her immediately and ran up to her. As in a real fairy tale, they played a second wedding and lived happily ever after.

Love is stronger than distance

When Irina and Woodford McClellan got married, they could not have imagined that another 11 years would pass before they could finally be together.
In the early 1970s, Irina lived in Moscow and worked at the Institute of World Economics and international relations- it was there that she met an American professor named Woodford McClellan. They fell in love and married two years later in May 1974. But in August Woodford's visa expired and he was forced to leave Soviet Union and return home.
Woodford tried to visit his wife in Moscow, but was repeatedly denied entry. Irina, in turn, was denied permission to leave the country without explanation. The newlyweds celebrated their anniversaries with photos and phone calls.
Finally, after 11 years, Irina was allowed to move to the United States, and at the end of January 1986 she flew to Baltimore-Washington International Airport. Her husband, with whom she is last time I saw her 11 years ago at an airport thousands of kilometers away, and rushed to hug her. The touching reunion of the spouses was filmed by reporters, and Irina wrote a book about her life called “Love and Russia: 11 years of struggle for her husband and freedom.”

Most long marriage in USA

Ann was 17, and she was born into a family of Syrian immigrants. John was 21 years old and they both grew up in the same area. They became friends in high school, and then fell in love with each other, but Ann’s father planned to marry his daughter to a certain man 20 years older than her.
Refusing to be led by circumstances, John and Anne fled to New York together. Anne's father was furious, but one of the family members advised him to calm down, saying that this affair could not last long. It should be noted that the lovers eloped in 1932, and together they then watched as huge changes took place in the world, from the Great Depression and World War II to the advent of television and iPhones.
On November 24, 2013, John and Ann Betar celebrated their 81st wedding anniversary. For spouses big family: five children, 14 grandchildren and already 16 great-grandchildren. John, 102, and Anne, 98, are the oldest couple in the United States.

Touching song

Sometimes the most touching love stories happen when one person in a couple dies.
Fred Stoboch never thought he would one day lose the love of his life. In 1940 he married Lorraine, "the beautiful girl"that he had ever seen," and their marriage was very happy. They had three children and four grandchildren, but after 73 years of marriage, Lorraine passed away.
96-year-old Fred tried to pull himself together and move on with his life. A month after his wife's death, he came across an advertisement for a local singing competition. By his own admission, Fred never had an ear for music, but he wrote a beautiful and touching song that became a hit on the airwaves.
He didn't have the musical skills to write the music for "Dear Lorraine," so he only sent a letter to the studio with the lyrics. Everyone in the studio was so moved that they decided to revive the song and made a short documentary called "Fred's Letter" to tell his story to the world.

"Diary" in real life

The film Diary tells the story of a woman who suffered from dementia and her husband who read the diary to her to remind her of her life. The film is based on a fictional romance novel, but this also happens in real life.
Jack and Phyllis Potter lived this way: In the 1990s, Jack decided he would not allow his wife to sink into the loneliness of dementia.
Jack started keeping a diary when he was still a child and kept it throughout his life. When Jack met Phyllis on October 4, 1941, their romance remained in the pages of his diary. Jack fell in love with Phyllis at first sight, and wrote about it in his diary: “A very good evening. I danced with a cute girl. I hope to meet her again."
Just 16 months after that first meeting, they got married. They lived in Kent, England, for over 50 years. Eventually, Phyllis' dementia prevented her from living a normal life, leaving Jack to cope alone while Phyllis moved into a nursing home.
But this does not stop Jack from visiting her every day and reading her something from his diary. He reminds her of their family and shows her pictures of their children and pets. And Phyllis, despite everything, has not forgotten how much she loves Jack: she is always overjoyed when he comes to see her. They have been married for almost 70 years.

75 years after the first kiss

In third grade, Carol Harris played the role of Sleeping Beauty and her co-star George Raines kissed her. He played the prince, and it was the first kiss for both of them.
After graduating from high school, George moved from Saint John, New Brunswick to Toronto, Ontario, where he started a family. Several decades passed, and after 61 years of marriage, he lost his wife. He decided to return to his homeland, St. John, and there he met Carol again, they hit it off and quickly became friends. A romance began, and after some time George proposed to Carol at the Ontario restaurant.
George told reporters that their romance was reminiscent of the fairy tale “Beauty and the Beast,” and Carol believes that she has finally found her prince. So, 75 years after their first kiss, they got married.

A 100-year-old man married the woman of his dreams

In 1983, friends introduced Forrest Lansway and Rose Pollard: it was at a party, and the couple was invited to dance together. Forrest had been widowed twice by that time, Rose had also lost her husband, who died from a long and painful illness, and had no plans to get married again - she just wanted to communicate.
They lived 64 km from each other, but did everything possible to see each other as often as possible. The courtship was a leisurely one: over the next two decades, Forrest often drove to Rose's to see her and then drove home that same night.
In 2003, Forrest moved to the city of Rose - Capistarano Beach, then he proposed to her. Rose did not take it seriously, since she was 80 years old and he was 90, and jokingly promised to marry him when he turned 100 years old. But this was no joke to Forrest, and on the eve of his hundredth birthday, Rose finally decided to accept his proposal.
The couple got married at a local registry office on Forrest's birthday, and Honeymoon spent in a hotel nearby, in a room overlooking the ocean. Congratulations flew to them from all over the world, they were even congratulated by US President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama.

They were born and died on the same day

Les Brown Jr. and his wife Helen were born on the same day, December 31, 1918. They met in high school and fell in love at first sight. Les's family was rich, and Helen was working class, so her parents did not approve of their love. But right after they graduated from school at 18, they ran away together.
They got married and lived their lives in Southern California. They spent all their days together, and even when they turned 90 years old, they remained active and healthy. At the end of her life, Helen was diagnosed with stomach cancer, and Les suffered from Parkinson's disease. After 75 years of marriage, Helen died on July 16, 2013, and Les quietly left for his wife a day later.

The ocean of love is no obstacle

Judith Lovell knew her grandfather as a strict and worthy man, and therefore was delighted when she found his love correspondence with her grandmother.
David Hurd moved from Jamaica to New York in 1907 and took on any job to earn a living. He was lonely and out of boredom wrote a letter to an unknown woman from Jamaica. Avril Kato received her first letter in October 1913, and within next year David corresponded enthusiastically with unknown woman, although I haven’t even seen a photograph of her.
With each letter their love grew stronger, and one day David took the plunge and proposed to a woman he had never seen. He sent the letter and began to wait tensely for an answer - Avril's family gave their blessing. They first met in Jamaica, where David came for his own wedding in 1914. They were not disappointed - their love only became stronger.
The day after the wedding, Avril left with her husband for America. They settled in New York and raised six children. Avril died in 1962, but David did not want to marry anyone else: he loved Avril until last day and passed away in 1971.

She changed and changed herself because she had a beautiful rival. But he wasn't attracted to the bleached earth-toned hair, the new lip circumference, or the stupid blue contacts. And he worried her as before.

Yes it was lucky chance when her heel broke. Stas did not leave the girl in trouble. He called her a taxi, although Lena lived a five-minute walk from the house. All she could achieve was his mocking phrase in the smoking room, “It’s sickening to watch!” Enough! Time to destroy everything connected with Stas, his former life, and in general, with the earth. She watched them burn personal diaries, and dreamed: it would be nice to get off the ground like this, or at least become a flight attendant... At least, she vowed to herself not to regret him for a minute and to never be a blonde again. Let it be Tanya.

Her new life started off badly. The airline refused her. The verdict was cruel: “Your appearance is not photogenic, your lips are thick, your hair is dull, your English leaves much to be desired, not to mention French, and you don’t speak Spanish...” At home, something dawned on her. "And that's all?" This means that you just need to learn Spanish and improve your English... This means that full lips are no longer needed! So much effort to change yourself! Nothing, everything will be different for the sake of another goal: the airline.

And she became a brunette. She was inspired by her own successes. She did them in order to become a flight attendant, and she did not want to go to earth. She became a highly qualified specialist and a respected face of the company. She knew several languages, several exact sciences, Business Etiquette, the culture of the countries of the world, medicine and continued to improve. She listened with irony to happy stories about love, and did not remember her Stas. Moreover, I no longer hoped to see him face to face, and even in flight.

Still the same couple: Stas and Tanya, they have a tourist package. Lena fulfilled her duties. Her pleasant voice sounded in the salon. She greeted passengers in Russian, and then in two more languages. She answered the anxious questions of some Spaniard and a minute later was communicating with a French family. She was extremely attentive and polite with everyone. However, she had no time to think about continuing her romantic story in airplane. We need to bring some refreshments, and there was someone’s baby crying...

In the darkness of the salon, the blonde had been sleeping for a long time, and his eyes burned tirelessly. He met her gaze. It's strange that she still cares about him. The look stirred her senses and she turned to leave. He couldn't speak. Stas raised his palm to the foggy porthole, where the letters “F”, “D”, “I” were displayed, and then carefully erased them in front of him. A wave of joy washed over her. Landing was approaching.