Today is a special day in my life. Today signifies the 8-year anniversary of the first time I kissed my wife. That was very significant because it was a long time coming. You see, I used to be gay and … just kidding. Actually, I decided I liked Jen long before she had the same epiphany. We worked together so we built a working friendship over the course of a year. The problem was that she was seeing someone. He was a nice enough guy, but I could have taken him. While she was seeing him, I was seeing her at work every day. In fact, I’m sure I saw her more than he saw her. I totally fell for her. I told her. She essentially said, “Well, thanks, but I’m seeing someone.”
They eventually broke up and I was elated / excited / freaked out. We went on an official date. Nothing. We did a few things together, but we found that it wasn’t natural and not working. We remained friends, but with no benefits at all. In fact, I started seeing someone else and started an exclusive relationship with her. This was the beginning…
Jen got jealous. My relationship didn’t work out with the other girl and we broke up. Jen quickly invited me to join her and her family on a trip to Lake Powell. I accepted and each of us got to see the other in a completely different environment besides work and contrived date situations. It was there that Jen told me, “Let’s try this again.”
The funny thing is that I didn’t actually kiss her at Lake Powell. There were lots of people there (probably watching every move the two of us made) and it wouldn’t have been right. So, a few days after returning from Lake Powell, we went to the Manti Pageant on June 22. When we got back that night, I told her how I felt about her. In fact, my exact words were, “Girl, I adore you.” And we made out like wild animals… just kidding! We did kiss. And it was hot.
That was the end of June. We were married by October.
Does this count as “kiss and tell?” It’s been 8 years, after all.