Y’all remember my first love, Sam, the one who resembles a better looking Tom Cruise, who is the most intelligent man of my acquaintance, who lives in Dallas, who is a neurosurgeon and who I have not seen in 4 years? For the past several months we had been doing the online communicating thing and had made plans to get together over at Christmas when we would both be home.

I really wanted to see him again, but I was also nervous. What if he thought I was fat? But after a Christmas of harassment all I wanted to do was get out of the house, so I called him up and we made plans for dinner. He picked me up at my parents’ house. I knew as soon as I opened the door, that he still found me attractive and that everything else would be fine.

We had always gotten along very well and that had not changed. We had a lovely dinner while we talked about his motorcycle, his hair, my breasts, why your brain does not get wet when you swim and lots of other interesting things. Neither of us wanted the evening to end and I did not get home to until very late.

I just can’t really explain how great it was to see him again, but I am sad. It would have been easier if he had grown up to be a hateful jerk and I could dismiss him as just part of my past. He is the boy I loved, all grown up. I fear I’ll spend the rest of my life looking for the next Sam.