We met on the beach in Acapulco back in the 80s (when it was fun--and safe). I was wiped out by a wave (embarrassingly) and he ran to see if I was ok. He told me he saw me at a club the evening before, and asked if we could have a drink together that night. I was only in a vacation mood, but yet agreed. We did have that drink, and he walked me back to my hotel..I said I'd invite him up, but I was sharing my hotel room with a friend. He said that although he would like to come up for the obvious reasons, but he said he enjoyed my company and sex wasn't just was he was interest in. (10 points in my book LOL)
We got our own hotel suite for the remainder of the trip, and after I thought it was the end of a nice vacation romance ( felt like it was a scene from the film Where The Boys Are--as all my friends met boyfriends that vacation), he called me once I got back home in the US. He was from clear across the country. And he follwed me back to visit for a week.
We had a beautiful relationship--but distance made it tough....Years later he called to say he was sick....and we DID get to spend time together before he passed in the mid-90s.
The only guy I ever said I Love You to.
I know--sappy, and we all have stories of loss. But this one is true.