Where are the words? The perfect words describing a first love. Reflecting on that day, I was entertaining a pure fantasy, a sincere desire to find a loving heart at the ripe old age of four. Picture this! Sun streaming through our summer vacation cabin windows while dust dances on the light beams hitting the windowsill. Flinging back the covers, I sat up on the edge of the bed wiping the night-time grit from the corners of my eyes. The smell of yesterday's bacon and eggs still permeating the air of the cabin bedroom. I grabbed hold of my musty smelling socks sliding them over my shove-like feet. I slowly put on my shirt, pants, and shoes oh so gingerly, tiptoeing past my very comatose parents sprawled out on the hide-a-bed in the corner of the cabin. I gently swung open the rickety old cabin door stepping down on to the wobbling porch steps one at a time. My destination was the old ramshackle fishing shack by the water's edge. Then lightning struck, invis