My name is Karen. I was Steve's girlfriend. Steve and I had our first date on July 26, 1996. Actually, it's kind of a funny story how we met - if you're interested. Anyway, we went to Chilis, and then to a movie. Talking about that night a couple years later, we could never quite remember what movie it was we'd seen. I'm pretty sure it was Independence Day, but Steve disagreed. Although I should point out that he didn't come up with a better possibility.

We clicked pretty well that night. We laughed at each other's jokes, and it was even sincere laughter! (Always a plus.) We had a lot of fun, were pretty silly, and generally enjoyed a good time. We saw each other several other times during the next couple of weeks, and then we decided to make our "Thing," as we called it, "official." I don't know what that means really, except that for me it meant I started calling him my boyfriend, instead of just "this guy I'm kinda seeing." I was happy; I was having fun, and I was delighted to have a boyfriend again.

As I started getting to know him better, I discovered some of the sides of Steve that not many people got to see. Everybody knew that he was cocky, fun, and had a good sense of humor. But I discovered a gentle, kind man. A warm and compassionate soul. Somebody who cared for me, and showed it in all sorts of little and big ways. Somebody who took my heart, which was scarred by hurts past, and started teaching me how to care, and how to love again.

I remember around a year later, I had to have my tonsils removed, at the age of 26. Getting this done as an adult is a miserable experience, let me tell you. But Steve was there to take care of me, the whole time. He drove me to the hospital, then stayed at my place for over a week, nursing me back to health. He would make me these delicious milkshakes, since it hurt too much to eat anything, and he would sneak healthy stuff into them when I wasn't looking, to try to get some nutrition into me! I can't imagine somebody taking better care of me, and the wonderful thing is that he enjoyed it, and wanted to do it.

I called him Stevie, he called me Little One. Sometimes Pookah. He signed his letters "Bear." That's what he was - my bear. Our first Sweetest Day together, he gave me a stuffed bear that I named Jethro, that I sleep with every night. He was a big guy, and could look scary when he wanted to, but I knew that inside he was a great big teddy bear of a man. I could fit all of me in his lap, and when he wrapped his arms around me I felt completely safe.

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