Young love is hard to find
I must have been about 14, I guess. Young (and secretly romantic) and just beginning to become aware of those exotic, mysterious creatures called girls. I had taken special note of one who sat across the aisle from me during history class. Her name was Elizabeth, and I swooned inwardly every time I saw her.
She had lovely blonde hair that fell in short soft curls to her shoulders and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.