"My dearest Dave,

I heard our song played last night on the radio and I was instantly taken back to the time when we went to the dance together. The songs that played that night are forever etched into my memory. They're a sound track to the perfect moment. My head resting on your shoulder; your hand placed on my waist. The rest of room blurring into black, it wasn't important. All that mattered was you, me and the songs. Falling for you in those couple of minutes was like jumping out of a plane and realizing that your parachute is stuck, but then it opens, leaving you feeling nothing but relief and terror.

You're my relief, but you're also my biggest fear.

Fear that one day, you'll realize I'm not that perfect person in the purple dress that you spent that evening with. You'll find out that I talk in my sleep; I'm cranky when I'm hungry. I have impulses to clean the house at four in the morning. I get random bursts of hyper energy when I've crossed the border into being over-tired; my mom calls it my "funny half-hour" Would you call it crazy? I'd spend all day in a book shop if I could. Or maybe half a day, then other half in a coffee shop, reading.

I'm terrified that one day you'll figure out that I'm actually quite boring; I would love a night in by the fire more than being crazy in a nightclub. I want to be a young mother. I love nature and the world around us. I don't really have that much to say. What will happen the day that you realize I'm not as tough as I pretend to be? I don't have it all figured out. In fact, I have no idea where my life is heading and that terrifies me more than the thought of losing you. But not by much, that's how I know that I love you. Not the butterflies or the fact that every time you smile at me I feel like my heart is going to beat right out of my chest. It's the fact that, despite everything that life has coming, I want you there for it all.

I love you to the moon and back,

Claire."

David Rossi sat and stared at the letter in his hands for quite some time. Like the lady who had written it, he was also transported to night of that dance. Everything was so care-free back then. He was 18 and had the world at his feet, his whole life ahead of him. Claire would be there every step of the way.

He loved the way she talked in her sleep, although he didn't appreciate the swift kicks in the back every so often. Or the fact that for such a small person, she took up as much room as a sumo wrestler. He'd never figured that one out. Her "funny half-hours" could be calmed by a cup of herbal tea, if you could get her to sit still enough to drink it that is. He loved her no bullshit attitude and cherished the times that she took her wall down and confided her inner most thoughts and fears with him. He loved her with every part of his body, soul and strength.

It broke his heart the day that he broke hers. She could do so much better than him. She deserved so much better than him. He couldn't make up his mind what he wanted for breakfast; never mind how he wanted to spend the rest of his life. She deserved someone who had goals and ambitions, dreams and aspirations. He just about got out of bed every morning.

David never forgot how terrible he felt when he told her it was time to move on. He explained his reasons and waited for her to freak out. But it never came. In fact, her facial expression didn't even change. A simple "ok" and she left his life forever. He never saw nor heard from Claire Holloway again, what did he expect?

Life moved on and 20 years later he had a string of broken marriages with women, whom he loved, but was not in love with. God knows that he tried to but they were always more friends than anything else. David had found work at the FBI and was still amazed after all these years that he had to wear a suit every day.

His eyes moved from the letter that he had dug out from a box full of old, dusty artifacts from his youth. As much as David had almost thrown it out, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He looked at the newspaper on the table.

A lady had been killed in a hit and run accident. Her neighbours and collages described her as a wonderful soul, who cared for others and was the life and soul of the party. Her children called her the perfect mother, who always had time for her kids. No matter how big or small the issue might be. She gave regularly to her local charities, helping where and how she could. She also ran Sunday school in her parish. Everyone agreed that, Claire Holloway did not deserve to die like that.

David was surprised that Claire had never gotten married, although she had been in a relationship with her children's father for 15 years before splitting up. He felt an overwhelming wave of sadness. He had known and loved this woman once, she may have been the only woman he'd ever loved and he'd let her go.

Not one for sitting around feeling sorry for himself; David finished his morning coffee and set out for work. He kept the car off for a few moments and gathered his thoughts. He had once loved Claire, that hadn't changed and either would his memories. So he decided that Claire, to him, would not be just another hit and run victim but a dancing, smiling, 18 year old girl; full of life and all of its joys. With that thought, David turned on his car and headed to work. The radio came on and he couldn't help but smile, once again being transported back in time.