She could have stayed on that couch all night, looking into those deep blue Swedish eyes, listening to him stumble over his English and blush, like a school boy. But there was still an unnecessary desire to end the night leaving him wanting more.

She couldn’t focus on what he was saying, as her mind raced, searching for the least awkward way to draw the evening to an end.

Before she could even think of a clever out, he locked eyes with her, his dimples perfectly framed his coy smile as he said, “It’s time for me to go now.”

Her mouth took her by surprise as she blurted out “Oh no, it’s still so early! Don’t go!”

He looked at his watch, studying it just long enough to give her hope, “No, I must go.”

She felt herself deflate from the inside out.

He lifted her chin gently with his hand, “We both have work so early in the morning, so you’re going to walk me to the door and give me a goodnight kiss.” This type of statement from a man, especially on a first date, would typically make her blood boil. But this wasn’t typical. He wasn’t typical. The way he looked at her wasn’t typical. She felt a smile fill her entire face and her cheeks flush and tingle.

They walked to the door as she braced herself for what was to come. Before she could even thank him for the wonderful evening, he slid his hand against her cheek and gently kissed her goodnight. In that instant, she lost all feeling from the knees down. Her stomach flooded with a rush of butterflies and her head tingled and burned. She threw her arms around his neck and passionately kissed him back. He moved his hands to her waist and with one pull he lifted her up and pushed her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist as they continued to kiss. In that instant she saw sound, she felt color, she understood the meaning of life. There were no questions, only answers.

He lowered her back down to the floor. He smiled and with his forehead against hers said “Goodnight.”

She clumsily reached for the door knob behind her as she continued to stare into those deep blue Swedish eyes. She felt her fingers grasp the lever as she tugged the door open. He stepped into the hall. She opened her mouth to offer a kind “goodnight” and instead found herself pulling him towards her. They stumbled back a bit until she felt herself pressed against her open front door. With his lips still touching hers, he smiled and muttered “I really must go now.”

Completely out of breathe and still unable to feel from the knees down, she couldn’t even find words. How was it that the American was at a loss for words? She was amazed, baffled, and completely taken. She simply leaned against the door frame and smiled, waving delicately.

She closed the door and slid down the wall, until her butt hit the floor. All she could mutter aloud to herself was “Oh.My.God….Oh.My.God….OhmyGod.” She reached for her cell phone in her back pocket and dialed Mom.

“Hi Honey! How was your date?!”

To that she replied with the most honest and poetic statement of her life: “Mom, it should be called Swedish Kissing, not French Kissing.”

And with that a romance was born.