We sat together on the cold cement steps of the band shell. Our laughter was the only music filing the deserted park that frosty November night.
The chill in the air pushed us closer. Our conversation gave way to comfortable silence as we watched the first snow of the year begin softly fall, illuminated by the golden glow of the street lamps.
In the quiet darkness the stoplight at the intersection continued its rotation. Red…yellow…
Then he turned his face close to mine, said, “Green light means go,” and kissed me for the first time. Suddenly I wasn’t cold anymore. In fact, I can’t remember ever being warmer.
And that’s the first time I kissed the man that would become my husband. I’d love to hear your First Kiss story. Share it in the comments below, and have a Happy Valentine’s Day!