Another Love Story Pt. 1: Meeting The Swede

Have I actually told you guys the story of how The Swede and I came to be? If you’re not in the mood for a love story, you may want to click over this one.

The thing is that a lot of people were very shocked to see how quickly I moved on and decided to move to Sweden with this stranger:

“Meg, you JUST got out of a relationship..”

“What the fuck? Who is this guy?”

“Megan, I think you’re making a huge mistake…”


Those were most of the responses I got from friends and family. All of it was completely understandable! But the only opinions that mattered to me was my stepmom and fathers. I’ve gone behind his back so many times and ran away to Tokyo, California, Europe, etc. So, it was very important to me that he was OK with this.

Anyways, I will get back to the first time we met. It was February 18, 2016, and I was still spoken for by B. Like every night that past month, we had a fight and I decided to leave the house. Luckily, Jenny had hit me up and said she would meet me at Buccan. What a fucking relief!

At around 7 or 7:30 PM, I arrived to Buc and sat at the bar with my favorite bartender/confidant. I bemoaned about my crumbling relationship while she continued to pour my favorite drink, Buccan Tea. All of the sudden, two boys and three girls walk in and commanded the rooms attention. I looked up and glared immediately. They looked around my age and they were MUCH happier than me which pissed me off.

I looked at Susie, my confidant/favorite bartender/The Friar Laurence to my Romeo (literary joke), and rolled my eyes as they all made their way over to her section. I pretended not to notice their existence as they ordered. Where the fuck is Jenny?

I played with my phone and prayed these people would walk the fuck away. They were way too cheerful for my current mood. Just then, Jenny walks in and so does Jeremy, which was a nice surprise. We relocated to a table away from the crowd and chatted away.

30 or so minutes later, Jeremy and I decide that we both need a cigarette and step out. One of the boys from the group walks out with a blonde girl and they ask for a lighter. Barely looking at him, I tossed him matches from the inside and continued my conversation with Jeremy. But, the boy doesn’t stop.

“So, hey! What’s up?”

I tuned him out and watched my cigarette burn. Jeremy and this boy became friends much to my annoyance. The boy spoke again, this time to the both of us:

“So, are you guys dating?”

Jeremy and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“NO!”, we both yelled.

The boy looked amused.

“Friends with benefits?”

We laughed even harder.

“Not anymore”, Jeremy replied.

I spoke my first words to him.

“I have a boyfriend. “

The boy’s face fell. I thought this was odd considering he had a girl with him.

After an awkward silence, I told him and the girl it was nice to meet them and went back inside. The night went on and Jeremy rejoined us. I didn’t think too much more about the boy because I had B back at home. A very furious B who would want to murder me if he knew I was out talking to other boys while he sulked back at the house.

About 8 days later, B and I broke up. It was the last straw and we both knew it had been over for awhile. So, when B told me to leave our house, I booked it. I texted Jeremy and we decided to meet at Meat Market. How perfect.

Of course, I washed my sorrows down with vodka so my memory is a little fuzzy. Somehow we had ended up at Cucina and made a plan to go to an after party on Palm Beach. I had met one of Jeremy’s friends and decided he would be the next person I slept with. As we are almost leaving, guess who fucking shows up? THAT BOY FROM BUCCAN.

Once again, I paid no mind to him because I assumed the girl he was with at Buccan was his girlfriend. Besides, I had my eyes on Jeremy’s friend. I didn’t even care to get the boy’s name. But somehow, he ended up at the after-party with us.

AND SOMEHOW, he ended up sitting next to me at the after. Finally, I decided to talk to him. As we sipped champagne and talked, he started to grow on me. He introduced himself to me properly and I told him that I would call him “The Swede” from there on out.

Then, he asked me for a kiss.

“Um, no?”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

I guess I had flirted a little bit and maybe led him on but STILL, I wasn’t just going to give him a kiss. I hadn’t exactly decided if I really even liked him. I brushed it off and fixated my gaze on Jeremy’s friend.

It wasn’t until my friend (who got quite drunk) decided to share an Uber with The Swede and his friend. She had lost her phone and bag so I worried about getting in contact with her. The Swede quickly interjected and offered his number. For the sake of my friend’s safety, we exchanged contact info.


Apparently, he decided to have an after-after-party and I arrived to his place with Jeremy’s friend the next morning. The Swede and Jeremy were in his hot tub listening to music and laughing to whatever they were talking about in their drunken stupor. The Swede offered me a pair of swim trunks so I decided to join in and pour a glass of wine. It was Saturday morning after all, I could do whatever the fuck I wanted.

To provoke Jeremy’s friend a little bit, I motioned for The Swede to come give me a hug. As I opened my arms, he picked me up and held me against his strong torso. Normally, I would’ve unlocked my arms and broken free but feeling him close felt so good. Suddenly, I felt like it was all too much and decided to go home and spend some time alone. B decided to leave for the weekend so I had the next couple days to get my things out. And clear my head.

I went out to wait for the car and The Swede followed me outside.

“Can I take you to dinner?”

I giggled while looking at my phone.

“I won’t take no for an answer”

I looked up and realized that he was serious. His eyes were big like a child’s and I could see he was waiting for my response. The car was pulling up so I quickly told him I would text him later. We kissed each other on the cheeks and I fled. I mean, Jesus. I was on my way back to the house I shared with my now-ex-boyfriend.

After a much-needed rest, I checked my phone and saw that The Swede had texted me. I was confused about how he got my number and he assured me that I had given it to him. Ohhh.

“Dinner tonight? We can go out or do something low-key…”

I looked down at my phone and without hesitation, I politely declined. I knew I shouldn’t.

An hour or so later, he brought it up again. Usually, this would be really annoying but it actually didn’t annoy me. I actually smiled at his persistence.

Yet again, I declined and explained that I was planning to move out the next day. Funnily enough, tonight at dinner with his father, The Swede explained that he had consulted his parents about asking me AGAIN. His mother told him not to do it, but his dad egged him on. So, a couple hours later, he asked me again.

Finally, I said OK. I asked if we could just eat sushi at his place and he agreed.


Yeah, that’s right. This is going to be a fucking SAGA. Just like how I used to write them. I can’t wait to tell you the rest of our crazy past month-and-a-half. Ugh, it sounds insane when I say it out loud…


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