I still remember the rain drops rolling down my car windows as I sat in my boyfriend’s (now husband) driveway when he paused and asked me a very unexpected question. This date had been like many of our previous dates before; we’d grabbed a bite to eat and headed over to the old dollar movie theatre in our hometown to watch a new-oldish film. Our relationship was so innocent then.
It was just another rainy summer day in the south; my hair was frizzy beyond any hopes of repair because of the humidity and Kurtis looked the same as usual. He was wearing his khaki cargo shorts, t-shirt (probably AC/DC), and black Dr. Scholes tennis shoes. I can’t help but smile when I look back and remember those moments. He always looked great to me, old man shoes and all.
I remember nervously wondering what Kurtis wanted to talk about. Many thoughts began racing through my mind, but the most prominent was “he’s going to break up with me isn’t he?” I kept trying to replay every conversation we had leading up to that day, and I couldn’t come up with anything. So, I braced myself for the worst, but he asked for something much sweeter. Kurtis asked for a kiss. His first kiss. I remember being so taken back by that question, but so humbled that he asked for my consent. I never want to forget moments like that. The small moments that become such large corner stones in our lifetime together. The small moments that remind me of how great of a person my husband is. He’s my dearest and most cherished friend.
Dear Leila 