You know how some people just love reminiscing about high school and never miss a reunion?  I'm not one of them.  In fact, I probably wouldn't attend a high school reunion if they held it in my living room.  It was three years of pure torture for me--an endurance event. It was also the time of my first great love.

I was a shy and awkward sophomore and more than a little mystified when a senior boy took an interest in me.  Innocent and inexperienced in matters of the heart, I basked in his attention and fell like a ton of bricks for him. Predictably, my parents objected to the "older man" in my life and made the fatal mistake of forbidding me to see him--which only made him that much more desirable.  I found ways to continue to date him despite their objections--love will not be denied.  And no doubt about it, love it was.  There may be no experience as passionate, as volatile and as angst-ridden as first love. He was, admittedly, something of a "bad boy" but he was a sweet and thoughtful boyfriend and for awhile he was my entire world. We planned for the future but lived for Saturday nights and swore our fidelity forever.  Forever turned out to be one year, which is actually quite a long time for an adolescent romance. Lacking the funds for college, he was drafted and sent to Viet Nam as soon as he graduated.  I finished my tour of high school duty and left town, too.

This story has no ending because I never saw him again but  wherever he is, I'll bet when he hears our song he remembers, too.