Our First Date

Dear Randy,

I'm here to remind you of our first date. You had two foster kids and I had two kids of my own. We began hanging out as friends, the six of us, in May of 2001.

Summer was coming to an end; and we both knew that we both knew. You know, that I liked being around you and you liked being around me. We decided to leave the kids behind and tour Old Sacramento alone.

On our way down to Old Sac, you mentioned that you'd enjoy a ride on the riverboat. I thought it wouldn't happen because we hadn't called ahead. As your luck would have it, there was a boat leaving soon with space for us!

We still have the picture they took of us there, in our bewildered, newly unchaperoned state. What would we do without the kids around? How would the conversation go? Do I look alright?

It went marvelously. We ate a fancy dinner served on fancy plates by a fancy waiter. We danced on the smallest dance floor I've ever seen. The slow dance was my favorite. You shyly held me as we danced in slow circles under the night sky.

We found our way to the front deck where there were a couple seats available. The night was clear, the movement of the boat blew a delightful breeze our way. We were both surprised by the various drawbridges that were moved on our river boat's account.

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The full moon and it's reflection on the Sacramento River was enchanting. We made a little small talk; but, I had something important to tell you while we were alone (for the first time). I had waited for you to talk to me about our relationship for a few weeks by then. It seemed as if you never would! Here was my opportunity. I blurted, "I need to tell you something,..."

Ugh, I've always been clumsy with my mouth. You looked at me expectantly for a minute until my words finally left my tongue, "I love you."

You responded by leaning in to kiss me for the first time. Oohh! My heart was yours,... forever. You mentioned something about the moonlight on a boat in the river. Oohh! I don't remember any more of our conversations that evening. The only thought racing around my mind was how long I'd have to wait before you leaned in to kiss me again.

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When our boat ride was over, we strolled around Old Sacramento as the stores were closing. Before we got into your truck to go home, I asked you, "would you kiss me again?" You obliged, putting your arms loosely around my shoulders this time and lingering a second longer on my lips. Oohh! I wished it could be a tattoo. I wished you would hold me there, with our lips against one another, forever.

I suppose, if you did hold me there any longer, that my heart would burst from pleasure.

When you dropped me off at home, I stood directly in your space and stared at you. I didn't want to ask you for a kiss. I didn't want to be pushy. Oohh, How I longed for a kiss, though! This time, you took me in your arms comfortably, leaned down, and kissed me a nice lengthy one. I knew then that we'd better get married quick, because I wanted that kiss to be mine forever.

Here we are 15 years later and two kids richer. You are my best friend. You are my favorite person to have a conversation with. I still wish your kiss was a tattoo on my lips; that it was stuck on me always. Oohhh! I just can't get enough of you.
You're stuck with me.
I love you,

Bonnie