A lot of my memories go back to Sudbury. I guess I left a little part of myself there, before I took up the sword in a more literal sense than a lot of people are comfortable with. It took me and swept me away from Sudbury, but still...I think of it as the place I found first real, serious girlfriend I left there. It was a definite choice for the better in hindsight. You can see traces of her in my literary work, I suppose, much like anyone else who has had a fair amount of influence in my life. That's what this memory is about, I suppose.

She was beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. She was kind, compassionate, prettymuch everything I'm not. I suppose that why I'm penning this at five in the effing morning, because I have to get things off my mind. Off my conscience. It happens. Anyways, we lived two doors down from one another, and our relationship was rocky at best. Other people on the floor of the dorm (well as the one below and two above) practically set their watches by us. I didn't care- I slept during the day, went to classes at night, ate garbage, went out of my mind. She was a small bit of sanity. Well, not quite, but she made things bearable. Any undisturbed sleep, any decent dreams, any restful nights I had were because she was curled up at my side.

Sudbury by night is beautiful from the campus of Laurentian university. I've written about it already, so you have an ideal of what it's like. You can't really know, of course- the amber of the security lights is barely enough to blot out the stars, and they're few and far between. The sky's so brilliant that all you need to guide your steps is the snow and the pale moonlight. And that's where I found myself that night, feet sinking into the virgin powder in the woods near the Thornloe building. There was some light powder falling, and it must have been twenty below, easy. But I tromped through the snow heedlessly, head spinning.

My girlfriend had made what qualified as a fatal mistake as far as I had been concerned. We had been quietly watching TV in my room, when she curled up against me and murmured something into my shoulder. I turned to her with a contented 'wassat?'

"I love you, Chris."

It was like being punched in the stomach. Hard. Breath left my body as she looked up at my gaping mouth.

"What?"

"What's the matter, Chris?"

I couldn't vocalize, and after a few seconds she tore off crying. I just sort of lay there under my heavy quilt. What...the...hell? I mean, we had broken up three times in four months of being together. How could she love me? Me? How? Why? So soon?

I threw on my jacket and my toque, headed out into the wilderness. I walked as far as I could, along ski trails and footpaths, heedless of the snow. It was something so foreign to me. The concept, even. I didn't see it coming, not in the least. I'd felt something like it, maybe, unrequited. My stomach did flip flops as I tried to figure out how I felt. I mean, for the very first time, I was taking my life day by day, step by step. I had true freedom, no micromanagement, nothing. I had good friends on the internet, I had rediscovered my love of writing, I had a beautiful girlfriend...

I wasn't thinking about love, which was probably why it snuck up on me and hit me over the head with a brick.

I found myself in Sudbury, or I started to. I got back, chilled to the bone, and shook off the snow. the night watchman tipped his hat to me, and I barely acknowledged him. I stood in the rickety elevator, feeling my shins and boots begin to thaw out. Nothing had settled into place, but I had to talk to her. It wasn't unwanted, just sudden. I stepped off, numbly knocked gently before letting myself into her room. Her room mate was asleep, so I quietly knelt by her bedside. Yup, asleep too. I pried off worn leather gloves. Called her name. She cracked a bleary eye open.

"Love you too, dear. More than you know."

I stroked her hair once, kissed her forehead. She rolled over. Oh yeah, she was pissed. I sighed, let myself out again, took a long, hot shower. We worked it out, of course, over MSN...mostly because she was hurt and furious, and I was downright exhausted and depressed after six hours of mulling it over, talking it over with folks online. So, once I woke up in the evening, we tried again. It worked for all of six weeks before we broke up again, the day before Valentine's. Then, we got back together two and a half weeks later. Like clockwork.