I just want to go on record telling Vanessa, whoever and wherever you are, that you did some stuff to me that night last summer, and I will never be the same.  

It was probably pretty obvious how terrified I was at what was happening while we danced, and that’s probably why you drifted away into the dark without even telling me your last name or how I could get in touch with you.  You could tell I wasn’t ready for prime time.  You were right, but I didn’t know that then and I know it now, so that was a big turnaround.

All this is another way of saying I think about you all the time, and the idea that I won’t ever see you again kills me.  So I guess I’ll try to make it to Port Angeles about the same time next year, and if they have another one of those whatever-they-called-it things in the woods, I’ll be there looking for your oval face and your long, straight brown hair framing those brown eyes.  If those eyes are still saying, “Come on, let’s see what you’ve got”, I’ll have something.