The last kiss

It has been 3 months almost to the minute … since I kissed my husband for the last time.

Behind those lips hid whispers of love, shouts of frustration, peals of laughter and echoes of profound thoughts. Most memorable to me though, is … was how those lips could so readily inflame passion, calm my soul or make me forget everything but the fact that I was HOME.

Wasn’t that poetic? Those are the things I want to remember. I WANT to forget other parts but I promised myself honesty. It is easy to conquer grief when all you remember is the beautiful. Life, love and death are not all beautiful though.

Those lips, (yes, the ones I would give my right arm to kiss again) often spewed anger: biting, hurtful anger. Words that cut deeply, were often followed by apologies that were a balm to the wounds left behind. Don’t get me wrong, I was not the perfect angel in our marriage and that will come with a later post.

Tonight I am talking about the lips I miss so much… even if they sometimes caused terrible pain along with incredible joys. I would be happy to take some of the sharpness right now… because a week before those lips were silenced, we both promised to do better, to care more, to work harder, to think about each other and love truer… because we were trying.

What would become my last week to make my marriage work granted me the sweetest kisses I have known… kisses from those lips I will never feel again.

My last kiss… it wasn’t enough but it was filled with love and will be with me forever. .

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