Some mornings I wake up contented, fresh from a wispy dream I'll reconstruct throughout the day with a smile. I don't know why I still think about him, more than a year after he went back to Boston and I, nursing a tattered ego in Philadelphia, applied to graduate school on a lark.

I packed up, moved to a crumbling high-rise with a fume-choked view of I-395, and got a master's degree. I long to e-mail him a triumphant "Look what I've done, I'm over you," but it's probably best to wait until that's true.

Charlotte Tucker

Alexandria

First day of summer tennis and who is that? At least 6 feet tall, blond, curly hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and a smile to die for -- totally glorious Andy Roddick appeal. It's love-all, and the game hasn't even started yet.

I casually approach. "So, are you going to be a senior?"

"No, a sophomore."

And the score is love-almost 15.

Rochelle McConkie

Annapolis

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