This comes from BlogTalkers.

My first love was a French exchange student. While most might think it was someone else, it wasn’t. I remember not thinking much of this guy at first. I also remember my mother telling me that she was sure that he was my type. I couldn’t believe that she would have clue. I was in high school, and I didn’t think that my mother knew me at all. She had met him before I did because he was staying with her friend’s family. Turns out she was right, which made me a bit angry.

He was tall, thin with light brown hair and green eyes.  His tan skin, hair and eye color tended to blend together. His English wasn’t that good. Well, not good enough to keep up with my quick talking and unusual use of words. I still get comments about my use of English because I use words (perfect for the situation) that are uncommon. I have a picture of the two of us together somewhere.

His stay was only for the summer. It was a different kind of program since he didn’t go to school. He had graduated from the French equivalent of high school at 16. I had just finished high school myself. He was from Lyon, and his main interest was in Formula 1 race cars–driving them. We spent hours together.
I don’t even remember what it was that made me so crazy for him. Our personalities just seemed to click. It appeared to be mutual, however we never kept in touch after he went back to France. I don’t have clue what he ended up doing. He was supposed to go the University of Lyon. I remember talking a lot about the differences between here and France. I remember all the kissing. He was the first one I wanted to sleep with, but I never did.

I am curious as to what happened to him. Maybe he’s married and has children. I wonder if the car thing ever worked out in some form or if he gave up that dream to please others.