Um, hi. I don't really know how to start this email, but you said in your article about your own experience with women, that you would welcome others' stories and would like to print them. So I thought I would send you mine - and you may feel free to print it on the website, as long as you give me the URL so I can read it. So here it is:

It was official: As of July 12, my life sucked.

I had just gotten back from Japanese camp, which was amazing, and I had made a huge amount of friends - but this was a national camp. So, of course, the one girl who was from my town, lived in the middle of nowhere. Plus, I didn't have her phone number.

And I was BORED. After two weeks of constant activity, it was impossible to settle down again; especially since none of my friends seemed nearly as interesting as the ones from camp did. (This may have something to do with the fact that we conversed mainly in Japanese, but you never know.)

So I was cleaning out my pockets, and I found a crumpled up piece of paper. It had the number of the girl from camp on it - whom I considered to be absolutely perfect - so I picked up the phone and called.

She was there. We talked for a while, and I invited her over - and she came over.

Months passed, and I went through three boyfriends - one was five years older than me and homophobic, one was too quiet, and the last one (the most recent) was cruel and psychologically abusive. But we stayed friends, the girl and I, for the entire time, and spent as much of our time together as we could.

I remember, during my relationship with the abusive boyfriend, trying to convince myself and praying that I didn't like her. I had no issues with being gay - my favorite babysitter and teacher was a lesbian, and I loved her dearly - but for some reason she simply bothered me.

I thought about it and thought about it. And I managed to tell myself I didn't like her (Boy, what a lie that was!) and that I liked him, not her.

One night, she and I had a sleepover, along with two of my other friends, and we fell asleep fairly early - strange for us - but I couldn't sleep. We were sharing a mattress, and I had just broken up with my boyfriend a few weeks beforehand - I had dumped him for being abusive, so I was fine - and had spent those few weeks agonizing over this girl. And here I was, in bed with her sleeping next to me, praying for the angels to tell me how I felt about her.

I remember falling asleep, somehow, content that my guardian angels would give me an answer. And they did.

When I woke up, I was wrapped around her. My other two friends had already gone - they had church to go to - and we were alone. I blushed and pulled away, apologizing, and she just shrugged and said it didn't matter.

We started to put away the mattresses and blankets, and I found myself telling her that I really really liked her.

That was when she kissed me.

Now, seven months later, looking back at it, that was the best day of my life. We're still together, and happy as larks - all our friends know and think it's awesome, my parents don't care at all and support me one hundred percent, and her parents are doing pretty well.

So, do I believe in true love?

Oh, yes!