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"Let's go on a camping trip down to Virginia. Take two weeks off from work. That will give us time to make the drive from New York to Virginia. Let's make arrangements for a campsite when we get there. We'll buy a tent, sleeping bags, propane stove and other supplies. We'll take the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and see beautiful Virginia Beach and also the mountains. I've driven down the coast to Florida many summers with an uncle and aunt, and I know the way," Ed said invitingly.

"I'd love to see the mountains, the ocean, and the beautiful sky in that part of the country and camp out there. I've never done that before. I'll ask for leave from work tomorrow this week," I said hugging him.

Two weeks later we had a beautiful drive down to Virginia via the twenty-three-mile long Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. I watched the scenery and listened to the sounds of the seagulls lulling me into a state of complete nirvana. The color of the Bay was a most extraordinary blue-green, and the sky was azure on this hot, sunny day. As Ed continued to drive, I placed my feet up on the dashboard in front of me, settled down into the seat, and got really comfortable. The wind was blowing roughly through the Volkswagen Beetle window, so I rolled my hair and clipped it up. We sang, "I can't live without you," to the radio and we drove.

When we arrived we had difficulty finding a campsite that had a vacancy. The second campsite did have one. As soon as we pitched the tent, cooked something to eat on the stove, and headed for the showers, Ed and I were beginning to feel amorous. We were betrothed at eighteen and twenty years old, and we had a zest for life. We sprinted toward the tent to set it up. Then we lugged the sleeping bags and candles inside.

We lit the candles, and there was a soft glow inside the tent. Ed turned the radio to a soft, easy-listening music station. It was very romantic. He held me saying, "I love you and would never hurt you, Lydia."

His lips lingered on mine, and he kissed me passionately. He squeezed me tightly as he put his hips up against mine.

"I love you, Lydia."

I didn't understand what my feelings were immediately. Why would this "intimacy" make our relationship so different from before? He held me and stroked me to reassure me of his love. Soon the candles burned all the way down as we lay in each other's arms.

"Good night, Lydia."

We fell peacefully asleep to the tune of "We've Only Just Begun," a song that held special meaning for us because we always sang it together

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