Posted September 29, 2018 07:05:00 A few weeks ago, I was out walking my dog when I noticed a man in a suit and tie.
He had a baseball cap on and a baseball hat perched on his head.
He seemed so confident.
I asked him how he did it, and he answered that he wore a hat on his hat and a hat over his hat.
Then he introduced me to a friend named Chris, who had just moved from San Diego to Los Angeles, and we began dating.
I knew I wanted to become a sports writer.
When I was 19, I joined the team that made up the American Hockey League, the NHL’s new powerhouse, to write for a small-market newspaper in the San Diego area.
I loved it.
The writing was fast and the stories were often hilarious.
But Chris told me that I was the only guy in the world who wore a baseball glove.
That’s because I was.
I was wearing baseball hats to work every day.
And that’s how I met Chris, and our relationship took off.
I’ve since moved to Los Altos, California, where I’m working at a tech company, but the love of my life, Chris, never left.
We still talk every day, he told me.
I still remember how he said, “You know, if you ever get married, Chris should be the one to say yes.”
And he’s right.
When Chris got married last month, we celebrated our first anniversary together.
And it’s been a wonderful five years.
I’m now one of the most popular writers in the city, and the media I write for is growing.
I love my job.
But what is even more fulfilling is being a part of Chris and his family, who love me for who I am.
I have a lot of memories of Chris.
I’ll tell you how.
He’s a great guy.
When we were young, we were inseparable.
Chris was always my best friend.
I always liked him, and it was fun to spend time with him.
Then Chris took me on a family adventure.
It was a vacation that lasted about two weeks.
He brought me to Hawaii and then to the Bahamas.
Then, he and his wife, Nicole, bought a house in the Pacific Northwest, and they lived there for about five years until Chris’ marriage ended.
He and his two children, who are two, are now grown and moving to Los Anarqués.
Chris, on the other hand, is in his 70s, and his health is failing.
He was in a nursing home for nearly two decades.
And yet, he never let that stop him from living his life and doing what he loves.
I miss my old friends from the family.
Chris and I met on the baseball field, so he knew me from that.
I also remember his excitement at meeting me.
He said, I just want to tell you something.
You are a good writer, and you are a great one.
I know I am, too.
Now, the first time I met you, I wasn’t a writer.
But I didn’t want to be, either.
I thought it was a waste of time.
And then I met this guy.
We were in a small hotel ballroom at a local bar, and Chris introduced me.
We got to talking and laughing, and I realized I was in love.
He’d been through the same thing.
So we were introduced to each other for the first and only time.
We started dating and it went well.
And I was going to go home for the holidays and spend the rest of my vacation with him, so I decided to stay.
But we weren’t going to spend that vacation alone.
So Chris and Nicole took me to see them.
They were living in the same apartment complex in Santa Monica.
I went to see Nicole, and then Chris.
He invited me to join him for dinner and drinks, but I turned him down.
I told him that it was too early to be dating, and that I’d rather spend time alone.
He replied that I would be better off getting some new friends.
But he was right.
I’d had a lot more fun than I ever imagined, and now we were just hanging out.
And the next day, we decided to go to a restaurant.
We ordered a bunch of food and sat at the bar.
He went first, and she was at the back.
He asked her about the guys she had dated and what she liked about them.
I felt really stupid, but she just looked at me.
Then she asked me how I liked him.
I had no idea what to say, but it was kind of clear: He was the nicest guy in America.
So I told her I liked Chris too.
And we started dating.
And now, he’s my best man, too, and when I walk into the restaurant, I see him.