Tantalizing tingles still haunt my spine and chest when I think of meeting her again. I could still meet Leslie again. She only lives fifteen minutes away. The fantasy of that has always brought those fantastic feelings back. Leslie was, and still is, a very wonderful woman with whom I had a relationship many years ago. Needless to say our needs were different then. She moved away temporarily, then came back happily married. The spark she had in her eyes and in her life lit a flame still glows strongly in my heart. I should have the courage just to call her and say "Hi!", but I haven't *yet* mustered that strength. I could probably handle it better if we would just run into each other on the street.... Our eyes meet in instant recognition, a lot of disbelief, and our hearts would smile. We would talk for a little bit, trying to catch up on many years of missing moments of time, trying to figure out what to do with the now-dancing flames. Realizing that we didn't have the time for this unplanned reunion, we make a date to meet for a bite later. "Where" seems to be the crisis for me now. A public, neutral place would be good for this. That way I could control my "sweep-her-off-her-feet" urge. I always did stupid things whenever I got into that frame of mind, anyway. McDonalds seemed like a nice, safe place. We used to go to the one on campus all the time. Of course, she never liked the Golden Arches. She would always just order a hamburger and pick at the bread. "Not McDonalds," we agree nervously. She would say then "Well, how about coming over?" I try to control the nervous-joyous excitement that weakens my knees and flutters my fingers. I guess I should ask for her address, even though I know *exactly* where she lives (smile). I'd get her address and appear at her house at the appointed time. She appears at the door with her wide, warm smile and sparkling blue eyes. She has always reminded me of Spring with her baby- fine blonde hair cut a cool short length as usual. I re-record her image in my mind. It still matches my memories that I have kept alive so long. Her eyes are still level with mine (tall) and she still wears the knit shirts that she loved so much before. Barefoot at the bottom of long legs always went well with the stripped white and red knit shirt. I wonder how she can always stay so thin. She must still be on her health-food kick.- nothing fattening to eat. She hugs me around the neck and kisses me (melt), and invites me in, bouncing as usual. We sit on the couch, and I wonder if she is as nervous/excited as I. I know she is. Just as she sits she bounces back up and asks me if I want some tea. I hate tea. Unless it is iced. "It's camomile ice tea," she says with pride. My request for a Diet Pepsi is met with a wince in her face. "OK," I try to beg off, "How about water?" "Fine," she says as she exits to the kitchen. No, I won't follow her. She'll be back. I feel like this is a dream that I am going to wake up from, everything stopping abruptly. Just come back. She comes back and sits on her leg next to me on the couch..I am having difficulty believing reality - I am actually here. I take the water and kiss her on the forehead, her bangs tickling my nose..She blushes and kisses me back on the lips. This ends up in a series of hugs and kisses..My hands slowly record every inch of her back. Our hearts touch again. Our chests press against each other..I feel her breathing heavily on top of my heart racing. Her kisses become more determined. We stare into each other's eyes and kiss a few times lightly, my hands around the small of her waist. Leslie abruptly stands up.and leads me up the walnut and oak staircase. Why I notice the restoration work on this old house I'll never know, but she pulls me after her onto the bed. We lay on the bed and hold each other securely close. She removes my tie mumbling something lightly about "too stuffy"..I let her unbuttons my shirt, thinking that maybe the reason she always wore knit shirts is that there were no buttons for me. My hand goes under her shirt and feels the ridges in her back. No bra, I notice. She takes my shirt off and rolls me over. I run my hands up her sides, my fingers arched so they run the ridges of her ribs. She winces in tickle pain and tickles me back. "Truce!!!" I holler and plead. I drop her suspenders and pull her shirt over her head. We hold each other closely, feeling our warmth travel between us. She tugs at my pants, and I of course help, as she helps with hers, too. For the next two hours we make love.... Slowly, gently.... For the first time.... Like this may be the last time... Finally letting our hearts touch and melt together.