There's this girl, we'll call her Jane.

Back in 11th grade (I'm now fourth year uni), I fell for her. She was everything I looked for back then—gorgeous, athletic, loads of fun, spontaneous and REAL. Jane was certainly different than the other girls her age, and people knew it. She knew it. I fucking loved that. I asked her out, and got denied for another guy. I settled for becoming a close friend. I was secretly planting seeds. Eventually, in senior year she noticed the connection we had and we started dating. We were both virgins. She was my first and I was hers, and we were so comfortable with each other that experimenting in bed was easy and eventually we were having passionate, passionate sex all the time. We had so much fun, and spent every minute we could together.

However, we were young and had lots of growing up and changing to do. I expected problems, but my feelings for her never changed. Senior year passed and we went to different universities (both in HFX)...I cheated on her, and felt excruciating guilt. We had our share of problems but she was deeply in love with me, and I felt it (and vice versa) so we always stuck it out.

She turned into the perfect woman. Strikingly and naturally gorgeous, intelligent, hilarious, independent—the list goes on. I wanted to marry her. Other than my mother, she's the only woman I'm completely comfortable crying in front of. I laid my entire psyche out for her. The stuff I usually keep reserved for me. She accepted ME and I, her. We're passionate, artistic and thoughtful. We just worked. We brought out each other's best, and worst. We developed a truly honest and meaningful relationship. Every time we kissed, I felt peace of mind. She fit me like mittens. I was so incredibly comfortable and in love with this girl. She felt it too, and I know it.

I guess we got bored with how functional we were. We wanted to explore the things, and people we missed out on while dating (sounds stupid, but it's complicated and I don't know how else to put it). We had an 'on and off' period, and though the sex remained amazing, we eventually parted ways (she dumped me) and started seeing other people. I moved on quickly, as the gap she left was pretty big and I just needed SOMEONE. We remained close friends (every so often giving in to one another's booty calls) and remain that way now.

I've recently embarked on a personal pilgrimage (mentally), to re-evaluate what's important to me and who I really am. I’ve become wise to my outside influences and my deep-rooted problems. However, I’ve noticed that in all my changing, one thing remains...my feelings for her. Though I'm always open to seeing other people, I'm still the 17-year-old kid, deeply and passionately in young, puppy love with Jane. We’ve both changed and grown up, but we’re still the same people we were back when it was so blissful. What we had shouldn’t and hopefully won’t be ignored or forgotten.

Jane, if you’re reading this, I want you to know that you’re still a delight to me. A privilege. I love you to no end, and regardless of your feelings for me I will remain silently and passionately, yours. —Joe, A Sappy Romantic