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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1927696-My-first-love
Rated: 13+ · Other · Romance/Love · #1927696
The story of how I met and fell in love with my hubby!
Summer 1997

I sat at the piano as I did every Sunday morning. I began playing “Amazing Grace” and at that moment he walked through the front door of the church. I was drawn to him and how nice he looked in his Sunday suit which was black with a crisp white shirt. The blue tie with green swirls was kind of quirky, but fun. His sandy hair was a bit of a mess as though he had been rushing, and I had an overwhelming desire to go over and smooth it down for him. It was time for church to start so I tried not to dwell on him for the rest of the service, but I did notice that he sat down on a pew by himself. So he was alone, and I didn't see a ring on his finger. This new man had caught my attention.

A few weeks later I was sitting at home alone when my dad stopped by. We greeted each other and made some small talk. And then the subject changed into one we had discussed many times before. "Pumpkin, why are you sitting here feeling lonely on a Friday night, when you could be out there doing something?"

"What should I do, Dad? Go to a singles bar or something? There is really nothing for a Christian adult to do to just go out and meet someone," I answered in frustration. He only pushed because he wanted to see me happy. He was really and truly a great father, but I wasn't up for another round of 'go find a man'.

"No, you know better than that. I would never suggest going to the bar to find someone. Wait, how about that new guy from church? I think his name is Perry. Why don't you give him a call?" His face brightened as if he had just had an epiphany.

"There’s no way I can call him!” I said to my dad. He had really shocked me by suggesting this.

“Why not?”

“Girls just don’t call guys and ask them out,” I said. “Besides, he would probably say ‘no’ anyway.”

“That's an antiquated notion and not really a rule these days. Anyway, how will you know if you don’t call?” My dad asked as he gave me a hug and walked out the door.

I couldn't argue with that logic, so I sat there with the phone in my hand trying to decide if I should dial the number. Finally I made my decision and nervously listened as the phone rang. When he picked up, I heard his baritone voice and my pulse quickened. “Hello,” he said.

“Um hi,” I timidly answered. “This is Missy from church. I was sort of wondering if you were maybe thinking about going to the singles outing this weekend.”

“Yeah, sure,” he answered quickly, then ….. “Are you going?”

“Yes,” I managed to say. “Uh, would you like to go together?”

“Well, I was just thinking about asking you the same thing,” he said. Then almost as an after thought, he asked “And if you’re not busy tonight, would you like to go out?”

I politely told him that I would like that, hung up the phone, then screamed into a couch pillow. I knew I was acting like a silly teenager, but I was smitten. The object of my affection and I were about to go on our first date. I rifled through my closet and tried to decide what to wear. I wanted something that accentuated my figure, but not too risque, not that I really owned anything like that.

An hour later, Perry stood at my door. He looked so handsome in his green button-up shirt and jeans. His sea foam colored eyes captured my attention, and I knew I wanted to swim in their depths and become more familiar with this man.

"You look nice," he smiled in appreciation. I had decided on a white blouse with a yellow sundress that was form fitting at the top and flared out from the waist. I was glad he had noticed.

“Are you ready?” he asked with smile.

I just nodded and followed him to his truck.

We decided to visit the local frozen yogurt shop for a treat, but we stayed and talked for several hours. I can't even remember what we talked about specifically. It was one of those "so what do you like?" conversations. But over the course of those few hours, rarely did our eyes shift away from contact. Even though we never even touched that night, I felt the electricity and excitement of just being with Perry. He brought me back to my house, and I thought maybe he would try to kiss me, but he didn't even move in for a hug.

Although I was a little conflicted about the lack of physical contact, I still had a desire to be around this man. The next day was the singles outing, and we of course went together as previously planned. We had a blast white water rafting and joking around with everyone. All the other singles watched Perry and I. By the end of the day it was no secret that there was something happening between us. Whenever he looked my way and smiled, my insides became a twirling mess of butterflies.

From that moment on, we were together whenever we were both free. As summer turned into fall, it was obvious that we had fallen in love. At first, Perry wanted to take things slow. It took him a couple weeks before he even held my hand. I thought it was so sweet that he was cautious and respectful of me. When he did finally hold my hand, it was to tell me that he loved me. My heart melted like a stick of softened butter, and that was also the first day I received a hug.

Once we both realized we were in love, it didn't take long for there to be a little more intimate contact.That same week, as he dropped me off at home after a dinner date, he asked me if he could kiss me.

"Of course, you can," I whispered. Our lips were mere inches apart. I had been dying for him to kiss me for weeks, but I also respected his desire to take things slow. He bent his head down for our lips to meet. It felt like a wisp of a feather touched our lips and slowly slipped away. I looked into his eyes as he looked into mine. He bent in for a second kiss, and this time I realized that I was the first person he had ever kissed. He was so gentle and soft as instinct took over. His lips parted slightly and I touched the tip of my tongue to his upper lip. He groaned and backed away. He gave me a quick hug as he told he me loved me and ran to his truck. I giggled out of nervous excitement, I was flush with desire at the simplest of embraces. But I was also worried that maybe I was a bit too bold.

When Perry got home that night, he called me. "I hope you didn't think I was being too forward tonight," he said. "I really just meant to kiss you the one time."

"Um, no... I was worried that you thought I was too forward," I blurted.

"No, I loved kissing you!"

"Then why did you leave so fast?" I asked. I had to know. I was already in too deep.

I could almost see his blush over the phone. "I liked it too much," he said as he cleared his throat. Then I got the picture. I was far from a woman of the world, but I had been in a few relationships and was not new to the art of kissing. But Perry was far too shy and gentlemanly to go about kissing anyone that he wasn't certain was THE ONE.

"I love you, Perry," I breathed into the phone, then quickly added, "and you can kiss me anytime you want."

"I love you, too," he replied, "and I think I will."

My birthday fell in the middle of November, and Perry showered me with birthday gifts. I almost thought he would propose that day, but I was disappointed. What I didn't know was the next day he had a big surprise for me.

He called to tell me he was coming over with one more late birthday surprise. I was excited because, again, I thought he was going to propose. So when he came in carrying a little kitten and held it out to me, I felt a bit let down. However, before he let me hold the kitten, he told me I could only keep it if I would marry him. He turned the kitten's collar around, and a heart shaped diamond ring was attached. I said "yes," and he took the ring off the kitten and slipped it on my finger. The rest of the evening we sat making wedding plans, watching the kitten play, and sneaking little kisses.

We were married three weeks later on December fifth in a little country church with family and friends. I walked down the aisle to "Joy to the World." We had a beautiful Christmas wedding with poinsettia's and roses for decorations. It wasn't an elaborate ceremony, but I cried as I met him at the altar to pledge my love to him before God and man. 

My first love is still my love. We have been married for seventeen wonderful years and are raising two precious children together. My first love… My only love…
© Copyright 2013 Marci Missing Everyone (marphilhearts at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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