Back in the dark ages, before cable and the Internet, that is, there was a TV show called "Fantasy Island." People would arrive on the island and their fantasies would be fulfilled.

Taylor landed on the island, only, it was for real. She's a publicist for a travel company. She had to take a group of journalists to a tiny island off the Australian coast so that they could write glowing travel stories about the place. There they were in the land down under to be wined and dined and provided with the best the exotic little island had to offer.

And part of what it had to offer was Steve, the captain of a fishing boat chartered for the group. He was tall and rugged with an accent rough enough to sharpen a knife. Macho, but tender, too.

"He told me I was his beautiful, warm lady from the other side of the moon where he had thought it was cold," says Taylor. She swears the way he said it wasn't cheesy.

By their third day together, she was in trouble. Taylor's the kind of woman who likes to be in control, and she was spinning out of it. But she didn't care. "It was one of those rare experiences where two people are exactly in sync. How often does that happen?"

After five days, it was time for Taylor to bring the group home. On their last night together, Taylor told Steve she loved him. She realized she'd made a mistake because she could feel him withdrawing. Still, they spent the night together. He left her room at 5 a.m., promising he'd be back to say goodbye before she had to leave at 10.

"He didn't show up. It was raining so badly, I thought the roads might be washed out or something. I finally had to leave. We all got on the boat that was taking us to the mainland, and we passed his boat! We just looked at each other."

Taylor couldn't get Steve out of her system. She decided she had to know whether this was a shipboard romance or something with more promise. She decided to return to paradise.

Their first day together on her return trip was a little awkward. She had forgotten that Steve had this little habit of drinking himself into a stupor. The second day was even more awkward. She was in his room, trying to wake him when another woman walked in carrying a bag of groceries.

"Are you Taylor?" asked the woman, who seemed very much at home.

"Yes," Taylor answered. "Who are you?"

The two women became acquainted over the captain's inert body. The woman with the groceries was Steve's Aussie girlfriend.

"I just left," says Taylor. "I'd come 2,000 miles to see this man and I just left. I didn't have the confidence in myself, I didn't have the confidence in the relationship, and I guess I didn't have the confidence in him to tell her to get out. I should have fought for him, but I didn't have the guts."

Taylor, who six years later still carries Steve's picture in her wallet, thinks the moral of this story is, "Fight for your man."

I disagree. I think the moral is fantasy islands and the men who live on them are better left as memories.

What's your most romantic experience? Send your tale, along with your questions, problems and rants to cheryllavinrapp@gmail.com.