Please Let This Be My Last First Kiss

Recently, I was reading a magazine when an article about the last first kiss really resonated with me.

In the essay, the author was recounting her love story (which, if you recall, I love hearing those). At one point, she mentions that when she met the man she knew would be her husband, she then knew that their first kiss would be her last first kiss. My heart was nearly full of the romantic notion of it all—how exquisite to know, to be aware that you are in the middle of your last first kiss.

Of course, being a military wife, I have to put my own spin on it.

I began thinking about the first kiss my husband and I shared in a the tiny old Killeen Airport. It was the first time we had met face-to-face, yet our hearts had met across the distance and had already rejoiced in being the fortunate ones who find their soulmates.

This last first kiss only sealed the deal.

Now, as I await my husband’s return from his deployment, I can’t help but feel that this kiss will, in its own way, be a first kiss.

It will be the first kiss we share after so many, many months apart. 

It will be the first kiss we share since I have discovered just how strong I can be and how much I can do if I have to.

It will be the first kiss we share since our boys turned 2, 9, 11, 13, and 17.

It will be the first kiss we share after experiencing so many life-altering events apart, with only a tenuous line of communication to crackle and echo back our attempts at heartfelt and heartbreaking conversations.

In short, so very much has happened and so much time has passed since I felt the gentle warmth of my husband’s lips on mine.

This kiss will be a first kiss, and my prayer is that it will truly and finally be my last first kiss.