Sitting here prone in a t-shirt and boxers, listening to a old mix tape that my girlfriend sent me. Trying not to cry. Missing her incredibly. It doesn't matter that I will see her next weekend. Any time that I am without her touch, her intelligence, and her personality, my live reverts to this depressing hyper-reality. We are just about at seven months, four of which we have been separated geographically, being in Indiana and Michigan respectively. Our love does not divide, does not change except to grow strong as the absence sits at the bottom of our heart, dragging our spirits down.

Alyson made a new dimension in my life. She was the key to my heart, she was the key to my evolution from a na�ve High Schooler posing as a College Freshman, and no amount of praise, no showering of gifts could even do her justice. Its been two and a half months since we last saw each other. School has started up for both of us, more so for her than I, being a graduate student. Massive amounts of time are taken to complete schoolwork, but we still attempt to talk to each other every night.

One of our most common characteristics, the inborn stubbornness that cause us to be unyielding proponents of social change, is precisely the reason why we will still be together 5, 10, or even 20 years after this piece is finished. I have the most excellent birthday present coming up, that being the chance to see Alyson that weekend. Of course, this celebration will be long past by the time this article is published, but perhaps I can draw from the great memories of it in the eternity that marks each night without her.

DePauw is incredibly painful for me. Every monument, every building, every professor remind me of the times Alyson and I had. I am asked about her every day, it seems, and while it doesn't seem necessarily that bad of a thing, a part of my heart pangs with desire every time my mind even just passingly thinks about her. I've thought about transferring, but that would be an abandonment of the sword which is two-edged. What depresses me about DePauw at times also evokes tender memories, and to give in to the depressing thoughts would just be a failure.

Alyson, I love you.