Affection and intimacy

Last night I dreamt about the great love of my youth.

J was a son of missionaries. I met him in December of 1985 when I was 20 and he was 18 or 19. I went to a prayer meeting at my pastor’s house and J was there. He was starting university. His parents had contacted the church to find a place for him to stay until he could get a proper apartment. I was attracted at once. By the start of the January semester he had found a single room in the same residence where I lived on campus.

J was outgoing and charismatic, with an almost angelic beauty, thinning sandy hair and shining skin. He smiled and laughed easily, and his manner was quicksilver. His voice was a musical tenor with a marked stammer.

His parents had served in Southeast Asia throughout his childhood, and were stationed in Vietnam when the war broke out, but I never heard that story in detail. J had spent his teen years in boarding school in Thailand. His parents seemed duly concerned about his religious development. J was a rebel.

( A fairly long memoir )