Twenty-four years ago today I was in my third year of university in Ottawa. I had a group of incredible friends and life was just one party after the next. Three months earlier I had met a guy who was entirely different from any guy I had ever known; loud, outspoken, incredibly smart, and a little bit dangerous.
I was completely smitten.
Simon had a girlfriend when we met and he spent the better part of the winter winding down his relationship. As a result, nothing had been able to develop between us other than a powerful mutual attraction.
It was March 7, 1990 and I found myself standing in the Duke of Somerset ready to head home with my roommate, Lindsay, for the night. We had celebrated Simon’s 22nd birthday and it had been an incredible night. As I went to say goodbye to the birthday boy, Eric Clapton started to sing. And as Clapton crooned Wonderful Tonight, Simon kissed me for the first time.
I am an incurable romantic so perhaps I don’t have a leg to stand on when I say this but…that kiss was incredible. And to this day, I can close my eyes and evoke the feeling of the rest of the world falling away while I lost myself in those few moments.
I floated home on air that night and had the distinct impression that Simon was someone who was going to become an important part of my life.
Simon and I have kissed millions of times since that night twenty-four years ago. Sometimes it is an offhand hello, goodbye or a quick I love you. Every once in a while, though, I get swept away by that feeling from all those years ago that just goes right down to my toes and reminds me that Simon is the only one for me.