A Nomadic Love Story…Part Nine, The Last First

Paul grinned slightly, but nothing more was said on the topic of whether or not I would be willing to go overseas for the rest of lunch or for the next couple of weeks.

A few weeks passed with me in a dream-like state and my heart growing ever fonder of Paul, and at the end of February I headed down to Houston with a carload of friends to work a Disciple Now youth event. How would I ever make it through the weekend without seeing Paul? I didn’t know if I could take it. I can be a bit dramatic at times.

However after a long weekend spent with 7th grade girls I made it back to Fort Worth intact and without a breakdown while I had been away.

After throwing my bags in my apartment I walked as fast as I could, trying to appear calm to onlookers, to Paul’s apartment. My heart was beating out of my chest. I just couldn’t wait to see him. After all it had been THREE WHOLE DAYS since I’d seen him last. And at last I arrived and there he was…oh, how I had missed him.

Wanting some alone time we headed to my apartment because I, being the independent-need-my-own-space person that I am, had no roommates. We sat on the couch and I told him about the weekend and then about how much I’d missed him. Wait…was it too soon to mention that? All well, it was out there now.

After a couple of hours of catching up I walked Paul to the door, and it happened. That moment every girl dreams about. That knee-popping, out of this world, mind blowing, I almost fainted last first kiss.

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