Sam + Sherri

Read Their Love Story!

Hello,

I don't know if there's a particular format y'all would appreciate, but since I love to tell a story, I'll just go right ahead. I hope you can hear my voice as you read this to yourself/selves wherever you are, and that it brings a smile to your face/s as stumbling upon this contest brought a smile to mine.

My name is Samantha, Sam. My fiancée's name is Sherri. I met Sherri in or around June of 2012. I can't say I remember the exact date, but the details of my first glance are etched into my memory. I was starting a new job post-undergraduation at a restaurant opening in Center City. That first day, I entered the restaurant through the kitchen door, and walked onto the food line. Sherri was at the end of the line, her back towards me, adding ingredients to a blender. Her hair was up, the nape of her neck catching my eye like a bit of gold. Her posture was easy and strong. I began my cool approach, confident strides nearer to a woman I wanted to know. When I was close, she turned, and the air slipped out of my chest in a single breath. My cool fumbled, I let my body introduce me, "So, did you go to Pride this weekend?" She smiled. My forwardness might have surprised her, but she seemed to already know me.
For about 10 months, we excitedly took up a friendship. We sat in my backyard and talked for hours, barely touching family histories or the usual subjects for months. We exchanged observations; I wondered at the way she navigated the world, and she laughed at the way I perceived it. We talked openly and easily. When sadness disrupted either one of us, we came together and talked more, or sat silently and took comfort in each other's company. She was my manager at work. After hours, she steadily became my dearest friend.

Winter came, a second restaurant opened, and Sherri and I were no longer working at the same store. On Valentine's Day of 2013 I texted Sherri from work. I wanted to see her. I made plans to go over after work. That night, running late, I didn't get her flowers. What I did have was a Violent Femmes cassette tape. Blister in the Sun's "big hands I know you're the one" would always rise her face in my mind, and it was my sincerest way of telling her that I loved her. We exchanged gifts, shared beer and listened to records. Tentatively but undeniably, our relationship began to grow into something more.

I pursued Sherri, sometimes foolishly, often brazenly, always sincerely. She was hesitant because we were wonderful friends; I promised her we always would be. At night, I felt nervous sometimes myself, but I couldn't deny how wholly I desired her. I wanted her, and I wanted to take care of her. Her smile was the ultimate boon. I guided my approach by it. And so we loved. And laughed. And kissed. And walked. And we spent days in bed in the soft light through an orange curtain. And we cleaned the yard and had a picnic. I lost a lease, I moved in. I lost a job, and she told me to take some time to figure it out. I spent days cooking meals rich with my joy and my gratitude. I delivered her hot lunches at work and she delivered me support and tenderness. She grew, and I did, and we grew together in ways that sometimes left us panting with wet eyes and sometimes left us breathless with laughter. There is not a moment in these 3 years that I would change, not one that I would erase. It has been my pleasure and my honor to share myself and my life with this woman.

Now, we have decided to grow again.

Here's the thing though, Engayged, I manage a small restaurant and work for a chocolate company. I don't have the money to celebrate Sherri in some of the ways I would like to. I want to take this woman away from the drag and smoke of this city for a few days. I want to bring her to a place where she can breathe deeply, where we are not known, where water meets shore. I want to show her another bit of the sky, and another bit of my heart. I can't think of anyone more deserving than she to be celebrated.
I'm a little longwinded, so I'll stop here, and leave you with some photos as requested.