And she haunts me. Not in any ‘poltergeist’ or scary-crazy-lady sense. But she was my first love, and my memories of being with her sometimes rush over me so strongly I can smell the fabric softener in her clothes and see those tiny, ever so faint freckles just beneath her eyes. The worst might have been when I was in Ireland this summer. Her father is Irish and so by association I saw a lot of him, and her, in... Read more