It was 1976, summer, and I was dating Ted. Ted was a nice guy, but very arrogant. He was an athlete, popular, and very smart so I naturally fell in love with him. He would often visit me at my house on the sea.

His house was in town and had only one bedrooom, which he shared with his mother until he moved into their small living room when he turned ten years old. He said that was the best day of his life. His mother was a drunk. She would often keep him awake and it made him angry. So when he was old enough to care for himself, and big enough to stand alone, he moved onto the couch in the living room.

When I think about our time together I have fond memories. But as I age, the memories have begun to fade away like the fog that engulfed my seaside home. Were it not for what happened that summer, I would have no regrets. Only memories of a summer in love.

Ted was a young man who changed my life forever. He was the first for me; my first romantic embrace was with him. He was to be mine, forever.