2:11am

In a feeble attempt to calm her nerves, she focuses instead on the red numbers from the digital clock that illuminates the kitchen as they walk by. Wow, it is late, she thinks absentmindedly.

He follows only a few steps behind her, and she wonders if he can smell the day campers and movie theatre popcorn on her clothes... or if, beyond all that, he can smell her apprehension. She really has nothing to fear -- they had been hanging out together for a couple weeks, and he was nothing but friendly, gentle, and kind -- but she can't help but feel that something is coming, that wheels are turning.

The doorknob feels cool in her hand as she clasps it, a strange feeling considering the Florida summer heat outside. Even in the dead of night, temperatures hover in the lower 90s, so the cool knob must be a result of her warm skin from flushing so often that evening. She shakes the thought out of her mind, the way he sat next to her during Batman Begins and how she couldn't remember a single thing from the movie but could remember every nuance about how he ate his candy and how his elbow just barely brushed her arm so as to give her goosebumps and how his cologne made her swoon as he leaned over and mentioned something about the plot (without actually hearing what he had said), and swings the door open.

He stands in the doorway, smiling his soft smile and hanging his hands by his sides. He is typically so fidgety, so to see him do nothing means something is up. A warm breeze blows over them, wafting his cologne in her direction and making her knees weak.

"I know we go to different colleges, but I really want to make a long-distance thing work," he says quietly, looking into her eyes and searching for a sign of agreement.

Just a few days prior, they were at the beach, walking back to his car as a summer rain rolled in from the west and merged with the crashing waves upon the shoreline. The warm droplets, little beads of sunshine, coursed through their hair and down their bodies as they walked through the sand, so deep in conversation that the rain went unnoticed. It would be several months later when he would tell her that it was that summer rain, the way she walked through it without a care in the world, focusing only on him and laughing the whole way... that he had fallen in love.

She can feel her body quake and prays that he can't see by the light of the moon shining through the open door. After some hesitation, she raises her head and locks eyes with his: "I was thinking the same thing."

A huge smile spreads over his face as he cups her face in his hands and kisses her quivering lips.

As she floats from the front door back to her bedroom, the sound of his car unconsciously registering in her brain, she catches sight of the red numbers again: 2:11am. This time, the number is burned into her memory forever. The number -- and the kiss -- that changes her life.



Today is Matt's and my six-year dating anniversary. Every year, on 25 June at 2:11am, we celebrate with a kiss, reminiscent of our first one in my parents' doorway. This year, we'll be sharing a kiss as husband and wife. :)

Happy anniversary, baby. I love you.