He wasn't the first

He was not the first man to hold my hand.....but he was the first to reach for it first...and to hold it throughout a long car ride, a long movie, or while we napped on the couch.

He wasn't the first to buy me flowers......but he was the first to buy them without me asking, and in one of my favorite colors.

He wasn't the first man to whom I told my troubles.....but he was the first who just listened, who did not tell me how to fix things...the first to realize that I am capable of managing my own life and then when I cry on his shoulder - that's what I need to do - just cry.

He wasn't the first man to call me beautiful.....but he was the first to do so after I had been crying, my eyes were ringed with mascara, my hair was frizzed beyond belief.

He wasn't the first man to encourage me to follow my dreams........but he was the first one who volunteered to help me achieve those dreams (even when it meant running in the summer heat).

He wasn't the first man to kiss me.......but he is the first whose kiss took my breathe away.

He wasn't the first man I fell in love with ...... but he is the last man I will ever love.