A Place to Kiss

I found an old loveseat on Craigslist.

I found you, by chance, like a playlist.

I needed hands–four–

furniture through my door.

Then we made out–anxious, like a waitlist.

.

Hello Vocal crew,

I know I usually write about depressing things, but not this time. And since I love this story so much, I thought I would share the inspiration for my limerick.

This limerick tells the story of my first kiss with my partner. I met him at a party when I first moved to a new city. The party was bland, and we both left early, me to my car and him to the bus stop. When I saw him at the stop, I offered him a ride. I would never offer a stranger a ride now, but I was young and naive and he was soooo pretty. He gave me his address and when I typed it into my GPS, I realized it was only eight blocks away from my new apartment. In a big city, that seemed impossible.

The ride was so natural and easy. We talked like the world was ending and he made me laugh so hard my cheeks hurt. When I dropped him off, he even asked me out, but I said no. Although I thought he was interesting, lovely, and attractive, I wanted to explore the new city as a single person and not commit to anything too soon. I just got out of a toxic relationship and I needed time to heal. Yet, I wanted to talk more and be friends because we got along so well and had so much in common. He agreed.

Later that week, after talking every day, I found a couch on the internet for my empty apartment. Since he lived so close and I didn't know someone well enough to ask a big favour, I asked if he could help me move it. I said I would ask the previous owners to help me move it into the U-Haul, then I would pick him up on the way home and drive him back. Just a small favour. It seemed justifiable.

"It will only be 20 minutes of your time."

He agreed, eagerly. I later found out that he wasn't home and took a cab from downtown to his house to meet me in time.

We moved the couch and I didn't want to impose, so I drove him back home immediately.

I wanted to see him again but didn't want to initiate, since I know he wanted to date me and I wasn't ready and didn't want to play with his head. So I asked him again to help me move a standing shelf.

It was light enough for him to carry on his own, hinting to him that maybe I just wanted to see him, and although I wasn't ready to date, I was interested in him and didn't give him a let's be friends line just to be nice.

I tried my best to contain myself, but when he put the shelf down, I asked him if he wanted to stay for a drink. And before long, we were making out on the couch he helped move a few days earlier.

We kept it casual for months, until I was ready, even though we didn't see anyone else. Then we called spade and spade, and only two brief breakups and six years later, (Girl, you're good enough for him, get over your self-loathing, self-sabotage crap and let him love you) we are getting married in October 2024.

We moved across the country to Toronto and had to sell the couch and I cried. But I love the story of how we got together.

This limerick is for you, Matthew. I love you.