The day we met, I was standing on a ladder hanging up a picture of Snoopy dressed up like Santa Clause that I had done in art class. I had always been a shy kid, not very outgoing at all, when along came this shaggy boy with a bounce in his walk and a twinkle in his eye that just said he was looking for trouble. When he smiled and made a silly comment about that Santa Snoopy, something in my heart locked in on him, and it was love at first sight. Before long, I was wearing his coat, which was a sure sign that we belonged to one another.

I'd love to tell you that we were inseparable from that day on, but unfortunately the fates aren't always that kind. We shared some wonderfully special moments together when we were able. My adopted mother, Helen, was very possessive and didn't want anyone becoming too special in my life, so most of our private moments were, by necessity, stolen. We'd meet at the first light of dawn behind a school by my house, sit for a while holding hands, being content, and listening to John's FM radio softly playing Tammy Wynette and Lynn Anderson songs.

Other times, John would meet me at the bus stop and give me a ride to school in his car. We'd listen to Crystal Blue Persuasion and Knights in White Satin on his 8-track player, and just treasure the moments together. We would meet at school dances and find a way to sneak out the side entrance to make our own music. We were often discovered by the Prince George's County Police officers who had little sense of humor with kids sneaking around schools trying to get a little privacy.

Through the rest of Jr. High and on into High School, John moved a few times and changed schools. During the summers, I had to go away with my family, and he stayed and often found a job. We both dated others and life went on, but we always found our way back to each other in the end. As our final years in high school approached, we both knew that we wanted our futures to share the same path, and so we dreamed and planned a future together. John would finish high school and go into the Navy. I would go on to college. And when I graduated, we would marry and make a life of our own. We planned our lives, we planned our kids, we planned our futures. The night he gave me a ring, a gold band with white gold accents, I knew our plans were real and we would always be together.

Christmas of 1973 was upon us. We were seniors and the end of those childhood days was in sight. No more Snoopy Santas. No more sneaking around to see each other. We were moving ahead into an adult world with adult dreams and a foundation of love that would conquer anything life threw at us. The only thing bigger than anything was Helen, (you might remember her from "Angel's Story" who discovered our dreams and decided to trash them once and for all.

The night that ended it all has been a blur to me for years. Psychologists would say I blocked the memory. I think it just hurt too much to remember, and so I didn't think about it anymore. I was sent to my grandmother's house for the night and had no idea what was to come. John and his mom were called and asked to come to my house by Helen. When they arrived, her message was short and bitter. He was to leave me alone and never see me again, or she would send me away, possibly even out of the country and make sure he never found out where I went. There was no discussion. Her decision had been made, and she expected him to abide by it. He did.

I returned home, still not knowing that anything had transpired. Helen, who had been an alcoholic and very abusive for years, seemed even more bitter and vengeful than ever, but I certainly didn't realize how cruel she had been in my absence. She did tell me that John and his mother had come over and that she had offered him money to forget me. She emphasized that he had taken the money (a rather small amount, in her words), and made sure I understood that I heard over and over that my only value to him was what he could get for me. Repeatedly, she told me he never had loved me, he was just using me to get money, and now that he had, I was worthless to him.

My heart literally broke. I prayed that it wasn't true, but the phone didn't ring. When I finally did talk to him days later, all he would say was that it was over and it was better if we both moved on. I could do nothing but assume that what Helen had said was true. She had bought and paid for me. He didn't love me or want me. If I was to survive, I would have to move on. And I did . . . but my heart stayed with him, just as I had always known it would.

Time passed and days became months and months became years. Although I had no idea what had become of John, I often was reminded of him. I married a sailor stationed in Hawaii who resembled John in many, many ways, knowing that would give me a way to get out of Maryland and away from the painful memories. I longed for a baby, and my son was born in April of 1976. It seemed that I had moved on, but when I returned to Maryland to share my child with my family, one of the first places I went was to the apartment where John had been living the last time I had seen him. I wanted to share my son with him but found an apartment filled with new tenants who had no clue of where he might have gone. Again, my disappointment and hurt was so deep that I decided to try and move on and get over my love for him. I would be blessed again four years later with a beautiful daughter I would want to share with him, but she would be twelve years old before I would see my homeland of Maryland again.

Through the years, he never left me. A song would play that would remind me of him. I would see someone walking down a street with that little spring in his step, and it would all come flooding back. The movie and film stars I idolized had eyes that reminded me of his. And every so often, I would be able to recall the way he smelled, and I would remember his coat that I loved to wear because it smelled like him.

Whenever I got the chance, I would search for him. I had no idea where to look except for that area in Maryland, and I never found any indication that he was still in that area. Then, in the spring of 1999, everything changed. I was on the internet and decided to try searching for his name in the program "ICQ". This time would be different; I was successful. His name came up, and suddenly I was faced with one of the hardest decisions of my lifetime. Did I write to him and risk rejection again, or did I turn and quietly walk away again? I chose to write, but it was days before I had the courage to do so. And when I finally did, I received no answer. Again, a wall of self-doubt crashed down on me, but I climbed over it and wrote again, this time to a different email address listed in ICQ. And this time, a reply came back quickly. Yes, I had found the right John, and yes, he remembered me.

From that day on, we were constantly together online, rediscovering each other, sharing our lives and how they had turned out, and learning that we still loved each other deeply. He told me that he had joined the Navy, just as we had planned, and had married right after we separated. However, she soon found that she couldn't live with my ghost, and they divorced. His second marriage was to a woman who looked a lot like me, but before long, he had discovered that she couldn't take my place in his heart either. He had three children, and each had been named after something that reminded him of me in some way. Time and distance hadn't damaged the love we shared, and although our lives had expanded to include so many others, our hearts still beat as one.

It was August, 1999 when we were finally reunited. Mom (Wilma) flew to Montana and together we drove to her home in Texas. John was flying into Dallas on August 18th and the time there would tell if our love had transcended time. As he stepped off a plane at the airport in Dallas, Texas, I noticed that spring in his step, that twinkle in his eye, and stepped gladly into his arms to inhale that scent that is his and his alone. I knew we had both come home.