First of all, I have a really bad memory. No, you don’t understand, it’s really bad when it comes to details of the past.
Beau can remember the exact outfit I was wearing the night he asked me out on our first date. I haven’t a clue.
Beau remembers things I said to him in the ’90s that I don’t remember ever saying, yet he can’t remember to pick up his socks up off the floor. Go figure.
So, this is the best recollection that I have.
Picture me inside my duplex apartment, while Beau is standing outside of the door of my duplex apartment. I am telling him goodnight after one of our dates.
He leans in to kiss me.
I back away, a little stunned. Not sure why I was stunned. We had been dating a little while and had become really great friends. Best friends. I guess it’s only natural to kiss at this point. We were not one of those couples that vowed not to kiss before marriage and wait to have our first kiss on our wedding day. We were not that strong.
When he leaned in to kiss me, I pulled back.
I was nervous and really scared. This relationship was perfect before the kiss. I didn’t want the kiss to mess up the relationship and make things weird. Was it too soon? What if the kiss was horrible? What if the kiss ruined everything?
So, when I pulled back, I actually uttered the words, “I’m scared.”
How lame is that? What a stupid thing to say. But, I really was scared. I had been hurt way too much and didn’t want this to turn into another one of my failed relationships.
And, Beau, with his too cool voice said, “Don’t be.” And, leaned in closer and kissed me.
And, when he kissed me … FIRE! SPARKS! In other words, it was good. Better than good. Incredible.
A few months later, we were engaged to be married.
(Here’s a little secret … when he kisses me now, after almost 15 years … that fire, that spark is still there. I love that man.)
And, ever since then, it’s been non-stop.

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