I was 21 years old and working as managing editor of a weekly newspaper. I had just gotten out of a three-year relationship and I wasn’t dating anyone. As I worked alone at my office on a Sunday afternoon, a young woman dropped by to see me.
She was on her way back to her college after a weekend visit home. We had had a flirtatious relationship but it hadn’t been anything serious. Now that I wasn’t dating anyone, though, she had come to see whether I’d be interested in turning our flirtation into something serious.
I felt conflicted. I was attracted to her, but I knew I wasn’t going to date her. Maybe I wasn’t really completely over the relationship that had just ended, I told her. She understood. I kissed her as she left and we remained friends.
We both moved on to other relationships and I didn’t think any more about the conversation. I assumed she hadn’t thought about it for years, either. About a month ago, I realized that I lied to her that day — but only because I had lied to myself.
I decided it was time to call her — after all these years — and explain what had really happened.

Listen to Samuel’s ancient warning to Israel about anointing a ruler: ‘…you shall be his slaves’
‘What’s the worth of one warm smile? Go and ask the dead man’
God may be working on what we need long before we can see it
Our reactions to others’ suicides say something about how we view life
The time is rapidly coming when I’m quitting Facebook for good
‘Black vs. white’ thinking causes confusion without shades of gray
A reminder to friends of liberty: Others don’t understand our beliefs
If you can’t change your life story, that narrative will become destiny
New Year’s resolutions don’t change anything until we change ourselves