They met on-line and both were lonely; they began to chat.
      She was widowed, he divorced -- and they would talk of that.
      She had children grown and gone, she said, "They left the nest."
      He explained, that as for children, he had not been blessed.

      She said she had a happy life before her husband died.
      It was not the perfect marriage but they both had tried.
      He would tell her of his marriage that was off and on.
      After years of problems he went home and she was gone.

      Their hearts began to open up and they began to share.
      So freely and so openly, without a worldly care.
      He lived up in Boston and she lived by 'Frisco Bay.
      They joked about how strange -- to get so far away.

      Months went by and they would chat about their separate lives.
      Many topics that they loved and things they did despise.
      Never getting personal about each other's past.
      If it wasn't volunteered they wouldn't dare to ask.

      As time went by, the more they shared, the closer they became.
      They both knew something happened and their lives were not the same.
      They didn't understand it; how they made each other feel.
      But then they realized, that what they had was very real.

      One day they started talking of the people they had met.
      And he began to tell her of a girl he can't forget.
      I met this girl in high school and I loved her from the start.
      She was the only girl I've known who's ever had my heart.

      We only dated for a year but our love was so deep.
      The kind of love and romance that in movies, makes you weep.
      But then my world came tumbling down and brought me to my knees.
      I got ill because I had a very rare disease.

      The doctors said, "It was so rare and fatal just as well,
      And maybe it's contagious but it is too soon to tell.
      It seems it takes a lengthy time to pass to someone else.
      But if you want to play it safe, you should keep it to yourself."

      I never told another soul except my Mom and Dad.
      I wanted no one's pity for the problems that I had.
      So I broke up with Maryanne; it ripped my heart apart.
      She never knew; then she moved west to get a brand new start.

      Amazingly, they found a cure and now I am OK.
      But I have always loved that girl; I still do to this day.
      I never heard from her again, I think she's married now.
      I'd like to see her once again but I just don't know how.

      So now you know my story, of my heartache from my past.
      We've shared so many things, I thought I'd tell you that at last.
      Then when he finished typing, he just sat back in his chair.
      And when she gave him no reply, he typed, "Annie, you there?"

      "Pleaseeeee," she typed, "give me a minute, I will be with you."
      And then after...what seemed forever, she typed, "Is this true?"
      Shocked by her response, because he'd never lied before.
      He sat back...and waited for her to type in some more.

      Finally she typed the words, "Did you once live in Maine?
      I loved a boy who lived there once but you can't be the same!
      His name was John. I never knew, until 5 years ago,
      The reason why he broke it off and I still love him so."

      "I lived in Maine," was his response, "a town called Skowhegan."
      "Oh, my God!" was her response, "John! This is Maryanne!
      Oh, John, I can't stop crying, I love you so very much.
      I've tried so hard to find you so that we could get in touch.

      "I now know why you broke it off, I didn't know for years.
      And I have spent so many nights sleeping in my tears."
      "I still love you," was his reply, "I know I always will.
      And we can be together now, if you will have me still."

      The next day John was heading west to be with Maryanne.
      So don't doubt love can happen to us, here in cyberland.
      Love is where you find it and it finds you anywhere.
      It can rekindle past loves, if they happen to be there.

~ James A. Kisner ~

[ by James A. Kisner © 1999 ( -- {used with permission} ]


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