I Said Sorry For Kissing You Suddenly… But She Said “Don’t Be Sorry… Do It Properly This Time”
A Lifetime of Doing it Properly
The door closed behind her with a finality that shook me to my core. I stood there alone in my apartment.
I felt like I just made the biggest mistake of my life. I gave her an hour, which was the longest hour of my life.
Then, I drove to her place. It was raining again, a gentle drizzle this time, as if the sky was shedding quiet tears.
She opened the door on the third knock. Her eyes were red-rimmed but dry.
“Alex, I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “You’re right. I do shut down.”
“It’s easier than admitting I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?” she asked softly.
“Of how much I love you,” I said. “Of how much power you have to hurt me.”
I took a deep breath. “Of losing you.”
She stepped back, allowing me inside. We sat on her couch, the same one where we’d watched countless movies together as friends.
Now we were facing each other as something more.
“I’m scared too,” she admitted. “Scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize I’m not what you want.”
“Scared that you’ll regret crossing that line.”
I took her hands in mine. “That’s not going to happen.”
“You’re not just what I want, Ellie. You’re what I need.” “You’re everything.”
We talked for hours that night. We really talked about our fears and hopes and dreams.
We talked about how to fight fairly and how to communicate better. We learned how to love each other through the hard times.
It wasn’t our last fight, not by a long shot. But it was the one that taught us how to come back to each other.
It taught us how to be honest even when it hurt. We learned to love not just the easy parts of each other, but the difficult ones too.
A year after that rainy night when everything changed, I took Ellie back to the botanical gardens. The night blooming Sirius was opening again.
It was its once-a-year miracle unfolding under the stars. As we watched, I dropped to one knee and pulled out a ring.
It was not a diamond. Ellie had always said they were overrated.
It was an opal, her birthstone. It was surrounded by tiny sapphires that matched her eyes.
“Ellie,” I said, my voice steady despite the hammering of my heart.
“Seven years ago I met my best friend.” “One year ago I kissed that friend and found the love of my life.”
“You’ve seen me at my worst and somehow love me anyway.”
“You challenge me, support me, make me laugh and drive me crazy in the best possible way. Will you marry me?”
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she nodded, unable to speak. I slipped the ring onto her finger.
She finally found her voice. “Yes,” she whispered a thousand times. “Yes.”
Our wedding was 6 months later. It was a small ceremony in her parents’ backyard.
We were surrounded by the people who had watched our friendship bloom into love. Her father had eventually come around.
He hugged me before walking her down the aisle. “Take care of my girl,” he said gruffly.
“I will,” I promised. “For the rest of my life.”
When Ellie appeared in her simple white dress with wild flowers in her hair, I felt my breath catch. She was radiant and glowing with happiness.
The look in her eyes when she saw me was like I was her whole world. It nearly brought me to my knees.
Our vows were personal. They were filled with inside jokes and promises only we fully understood.
The officiant pronounced us married. I leaned in to kiss my wife for the first time.
I thought of that rainy night and her words. “Do it properly this time.”
I did. I’ve been doing it properly every day since.
It’s been 5 years now since that first kiss. We’ve had our share of struggles.
We faced job changes and a miscarriage that nearly broke us. We dealt with the day-to-day challenges of merging two lives into one.
But through it all, we’ve held on to what matters. We held onto our love, our friendship, and our promise to always find our way back to each other.
Last month we welcomed our daughter into the world. We named her Rain as a private acknowledgement of the night that changed everything.
I watch Ellie rock our daughter to sleep, singing softly. I’m overwhelmed by gratitude for that moment of courage.
That impulsive kiss could have ruined everything, but instead it gave me everything I ever wanted. Sometimes the biggest risks lead to the greatest rewards.
Sometimes “I’m sorry” is just the beginning of the most beautiful story. And sometimes the love of your life has been standing right in front of you all along.
They were just waiting for you to see what was always there.
If you’re watching this and there’s someone in your life you’ve been afraid to be honest with, I hope our story gives you courage. Not every risk pays off.
Not every friendship can become something more, but some can and some should. You’ll never know unless you try.
Remember, sometimes the most terrifying leap is the one that leads you exactly where you’re meant to be.
