Friday, March 9, 2012

That Night Friday

A while back I had this great idea (or at least I thought it was), that I would start a website called That Nite. It was sure to be an instant success, no? Who doesn't like hearing stories of 'Remember that night I/we...'? I mean, I love hearing a good story as much as I enjoy writing one. Alas, success was not in the cards for the site as I had wanted to make it anonymous for fear submitters of stories would be too afraid, or embarrassed, to send in their memories, which unfortunately meant I had no way to publicize the site. Plus, the use of Nite instead of Night (because thatnight(dot)com was already taken, as was rememberthatnight(dot)com!) was confusing all by itself.

That being said, I want to open it up to the public now and start posting That Night stories on the blog, every Friday. The categories are: crazy, embarrassing, worst, best, and bittersweet. Submitters will still remain anonymous.

If you'd like to submit your own That Night memory, feel free to email me at: samantha(dot)sessoms(at)gmail(dot)com
Title your memory, create a sign-off, and add your city and/or state if you'd like. If you would like to keep real names that's fine, however last names will not be published for the privacy of all involved.

Without further ado, our first That Night Friday:

The night I met you, fiance. I kept asking a mutual friend to make you come to a party. You took off work early to show up. You didn't say much at first, but I couldn't help think you had come to see me too, since our friend expressed my interest in meeting you. I showed you around the house, even though you had been to that house before. We stayed downstairs where it was quiet. You sat as close as you could get to me and I wanted to melt into you, but was cautious incase you had the wrong intentions. You didn't. I was hooked. The best part of that night was talking to you about everything. And the fact that you asked me about myself and actually cared. Looking back, I can appreciate that more than you'll ever know. Three years later, you still place a hand on my back, an arm around my waist, or your knee to my knee whenever possible, and you take more of an interest than ever before. We've definitely had our bad times, but we've loved each other enough to make it over the mountains of issues and grow together. I can't wait to call you my husband. And it's all because of that night at that party. It was my best night, so far, though I'm sure we'll top it soon.

Head Over Heels
North Carolina
(best night)

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