snapshot of herself in a bathing suit； which drove me to the wildest of fantasies。 I mentioned the possibility of marriage in my next letter； and almost immediately her replies became less frequent； less personal。
The first thing I did when I returned to the States was to call on Rachel。 Her mother answered the door。 Rachel no longer lived there。 She had married a medical student she’d met in college。 “I thought she wrote you。” her mother said。
Her“Dear John” letter finally caught up with me while I was awaiting discharge。 She gently explained the impossibility of a marriage between us。 Looking back on it； I must have recovered rather quickly； although for the first few months I believed I didn’t want to live。 Like Rachel； I found someone else； whom I learned to love with a deep and permanent5 mitment that has lasted to this day。
Then； recently； after an interval of more than 40 years； I heard from Rachel again。 Her husband had died。 She was passing through town and had learned of my where abouts through a mutual friend。 We agreed to meet。 。 想看書來
初 戀（3）
I felt both curious and excited。 In the last few years； I hadn’t thought about her； and her sudden call one morning had taken me aback。 The actual sight of her was a shock。 This white…haired matron6 at the restaurant table was the Rachel of my dreams and desires； the supple mermaid of that snapshot？
Yet time had given us a mon reference and respect。 We talked as old friends； and quickly discovered we were both grandparents。
“Do you remember this？” She handed me a slip of worn paper。 It was a poem I’d written her while still in school。 I examined the crude meter and pallid rhymes。 Watching my face； she snatched the poem from me and returned it to her purse； as though f