Dear Jay,

It was ten years ago. Ten years had managed to flitter by, and all in a blur. I was fresh faced, finishing college and with the world on top of my shoulders. Yes that's right. On top of them. All my life I had carried baggage but in those final few weeks of May, all my past acquired items, and those of the present, had culminated in the world's weight forcing itself upon my bony shoulders. My now came about from those final weeks of then.

****

I had known him since we were just 14 years old. We had sat mere metres away from each other for two solid years. Every Thursday and Friday morning sat in our history class near one another. We barely talked and although he sat beside my best friend at the time, and despite the fact that most of these Thursday and Friday mornings I would sit on his desk and chatter to my best friend, we barely acknowledged each others pressnce.

Admittedly, he wasn't my type, hence being the reason I never saw him fit for my attention. It was never through any fault of his own, I was just massively shallow and ultra picky. The men (or should I say boys?) I went for were all the same. Tossers, pigs and liars. For some reason, I chose, beyond all better judgement and over the advice of my closest friends, to continue relationships with such scoundrels. Most ended in heartache and some were just never meant to have happened in the first place. I cannot really say they were all bad, so just were not right. No one was "The One", but at 14 years old, I don't see why I ever expected that there was ever "A One" in the first place. Teenage hormones and naivety I suppose were to blame in that early deduction of how love was meant to be.

****

For as long as I can remember I have always suffered from social problems. My looks were not traditionally beautiful and I most certainly did not have personality on my side. I had never been part of the "in" crowd and I accepted that fact, albeit with a lot of disdain and unhappiness on my part. I simply accepted my place in society and resigned myself to being what I described as a bottom-feeder.

I was what one could call a geek I suppose. I was smart, there were no two ways about it, and I was not afraid to admit when I did something, academically, that was good. However, I was never one for bragging, I favoured modesty over being a bitch. I'd learnt the hard way, very early on, that "bigging up" your performance could easily wind you up with bad nicknames and give everyone the instant impression that you were obnoxious.

Even with my smarts, I never amounted to anything. At school I tried most things. I was good like that. Swimming, trampolining, Duke of Edinburgh awards, dance, basketball, tennis, choirs, orchestras, ICT clubs, you name it, I probably would have tried it at some point. That did not mean to say I truly enjoyed many of these extra-curricular activities though, I was more forced to do them. I forced myself to do them. Craving social interaction and with parents who never truly pushed me to do much as they never seemed to have much time for me, I made myself try such a diverse cocktail of activities. Most of the games I tried were simply due to the fact that I just couldn't face staring at the walls of my plain reception area in my school, waiting, hoping, someone would find the time to come and claim me and take me home. I had, without question, spent more time at various schools, play groups and other such institutions than I ever did at the place so named my home. My brother on the other hand? The red carpet was often rolled out for him. He could do no wrong, and although close, I would come to understand that I would never fully shake the resentment that resides in me towards him because our parents loved him more.

My life, in short, was a touch messed up by the time I reached just 16 years of age. Although life had somewhat improved towards this part of my life, I would never forget the years of torment suffered from almost every angle. I suppose, due to such reasonings, that was why, after having sat across the way from him for two years and thinking "now GCSE's are over, I won't ever have to see 90% of these people again" I was surprised to find Jay in my sixth form college in that September of my starting year 12. Of all the people to stay on at the college, he surprised me the most. Coming from a totally different league of my own, I would never have suspected any sort of kindness to befall me from him. And as my luck would have it, he turned out to be in 2 of the 4 subject classes I took and to add salt to the wounds, he also took another subject of which I took but did not grace the class I did with his presence.

Ok, so things were actually never meant to be such a way. It was my own fault I was back in the same buildings I had suffered in since I was 11 years old, but I had my reasons. My overbearing parents had been through a lengthy process of enrolling me for the Autumn of that year 12 in a local (I say local, it was a good 6 miles away compared to the modest half mile my old secondary school was from our house) girls private school. Incidentally, I would learn during my sixth form years that the private school I would have attended was down the road from Jay's house. I was excited - to begin with - at the prospect of starting a different school. A fresh start, away from anyone I used to know, away from all the bad memories, but I didn't expect my fresh start to involve private schooling for my A levels. Don't get me wrong, I see no problems in going to a private school, it was just a totally new lifestyle to be plunged into at 16 years old.

In the end however, after seeing what the school had to offer, and although magnificent in most aspects of it, I did decide on staying on at my secondary school's attached sixth form. Private school proved too different a concept for my mind to deal with and - in my own mind, but no one elses - I couldn't justify the amount of money that would have had to be spent just for two years of education that I could recieve elsewhere for free. Having not applied to any other sixth forms, I was only left with my secondary's attached one. There wasn't much wrong with that. The school was adequately equipped, no, it was better than adequate, and it had gotten me through my GCSE's with brilliant grades.



So there I was, an A*, 6 A's and 3 B's later, sitting yet again, across the way from Jay Grantham.

Much to my surprise, I fitted into sixth form life well. I had surpassed not only my own expectations of integrating, but everyone elses, despite a reputation of being a bit of a weirdo formed from previous years. As time went on, college, in fact, even became some kind of a refuge for me, away from the life my parents had created at home. I made friends with many people I would have been too terrified to look at, let alone speak to in a past life. For some unknown reason, in college, the whole clique mentality melted away, although that would prove to be only short-lived later on.

In the two years that myself and Jay had developed a "non-relationship", Jay had grown and I took to that very well. I had never noticed how he changed over such a short period of time, but perhaps that was due to the less than little amount of attention I graced him with in those GCSE years. We befriended each other quickly, mostly due to his crush on my best friend. Little did I know that it was only fabricated.

I begun to notice for the first time who Jay Grantham really was. He was lovely, to say the least. He was polite and seemed to actually be a good boy. Being from the "in" group I was cautious, in the beginning, in developing any sort of relationship with him. I didn't know how to trust someone who was in such a group that used to make my life a living nightmare, but wasn't part of the action himself.

At the time in which I began to form bonds with Jay, I was involved with someone else. Robin was in the year above and probably not my traditional type either. The biggest draw to him was most likely due to the fact that he was older and had taken an interest in me after having seen me only a few short weeks. In the years since I'd first met Jay I'd also grown up and learnt to categorise different aspects of people. In short, I became less shallow and more interested in the overall person. Robin was sweet, a nice bloke and we'd been chatting online after he'd seen me bawling in a friend's arms during lunch time on a normal college day. Whatever for, I have lost remembrance of. We'd hit it off quickly and in the three months preceding his intervention, we'd grown to "like" each other in "that way". However, that physical barrier of closeness was never much reached. I can count on one hand - make that half of one hand - the number of times I'd spoken to Robin in "real life". I never felt comfortable enough to just approach him, and it would seem he felt the same about me.

As that Christmas of year 12 grew closer, Jay and I shared more, falling deeper into our friendship, and I learnt to trust him more. He opened up to me also, and we genuinely had fun talking on the internet, as well as in person, to each other. Often the conversation would start with Helen - the best friend - but find it's way out and grow into conversations about anything and everything, and we began to learn about each other.

The final day - before we broke up for Christmas holidays - I decided to grab the bull by the horns, so to speak, and plucked up enough courage to seek out Robin - Rob as I called him - for myself. I was tired of waiting and speculating, and I wanted to make a proper go of it with him. So, there beside our school's little chapel, I'd shouted after him,

"Rob," I'd shouted, somewhat out of breath having run from the common room and stopped at the bottom of the hill leading up to the chapel. I watched as his body rotated, half way up the hill, and a ridiculous looking, oversized, figurine came into view - something to do with the festivities our catholic school celebrated.

"Hi," he'd said to me, a total anti-climax to the hope I'd built up in my head in the five minutes it had taken to run there. He'd had this weird look of brightness on his face though, which sort of brought my hope back up a bit. I think, even at that early point, I knew he hadn't done it for me really. Although my hope was piqued, it wasn't enough to think: Gosh that man is an Adonis incarnate. I want him so badly. Why is he not running to me, grabbing me in his strong arms and kissing away all my thoughts? No. No such silly thoughts ran through my head then, just anticipation of what he would say next, "I was going to come find you after this," he raised the figurine he was clutching, making his knuckles turn an odd yellowish white, "I saw you crying again earlier, I wanted to check how you were," as his eyes questioned me further, a small thought of well why didn't you check to see how I was straight away then? crossed my mind, which I quickly shook and stared off to one side of his head, not liking the intense probing he was giving me with his dull blue eyes.

"Yeah, it's just this present my friend's gave me," an expression something like some friends they are flittered across his face as I glanced back to gauge his impression of those few words, hoping he wouldn't need further explanations. After a moment or two I continued, realising my answer may have been a tad too short, " It's a little notebook with lots of messages from most of the people I know, and everyone I love. Almost everyone had written in it," his face fell slightly as I gave my weak explanation of the earlier occurrences of my day, almost as if to say, I didn't write in it though. "They were happy tears," I clarified, hoping now that he would at least find a word to say to me.

"Ahhh, I see," now it was my turn to have a falling face. "Ok then. Well I'm a little busy right now, but I'll catch up with you before you leave," he informed me.

"Ok," was my slightly terse reply. So I turned and left the way I came, feeling suitably childish and a bit let down. I couldn't understand, why, after three months of trying to get to know one another, he didn't feel the need to actually be nice to me, to even truly acknowledge me as an equal, rather than a child.

I pushed the small encounter out of my mind and thought back to the small book that I was still carrying, realising for the first time since I first thought of going to see Robin that I was still clutching it. That book haunted me that day. Everyone had pretty much made a mark in it, and it was beautiful. It was the nicest thing - to date - that anyone had done fore me. Even Jay had written in it. I remember the laughter creeping across my features as I'd read the little message he'd spent time to write for me, calling me his "Hunny Bunny 2", a nickname I had originally invented to wind him up. Back then I'd laughed through tears at the small evidence that I had made friends with a guy who was from the "in" crowd and proved that he did in fact think of me the same way I did him. I had been filled with a lot of happiness from the whole notebook, but his note in particular marked higher than some others in there.

Later that day I did see Rob. He'd kissed me for the first time, in the middle of a corridor, after a short exchange in which he informed me, "I'm gonna be away for Christmas, seeing family and stuff. But I'll give you my number so you can contact me," I didn't have much to say to that. He did give me his number and he left leaving me feeling more like his dog sitter than a potential girlfriend.

The kiss, and the few words which accompanied it, confirmed deeper what I knew but was too afraid to truly admit to myself. I did not want Rob. I had felt nothing from that small first advance. When it happened, I had even felt disconnected from my body. Like I was truly there. Like my lips allowed the assault but my mind didn't register it as anything to worry about.

The idiot he was, Rob never endeavoured to make any sort of relationship between us official. He'd never thought to "ask me out" or even instil in me some sort of assurance that he would indeed ask me out. Although he had kissed me, it did not mean to say he really wanted me. I certainly wasn't going to pretend I wanted him. I didn't really contact him despite his less than impressive advance, and despite him giving me his phone number. I'd sent the odd email, more out of common courtesy, but still laced with the hope he'd recieve them and show me some proper affection and dedication, but my heart wasn't truly in it.

Over that Christmas holiday, I spent several hours a day on the computer, mostly talking to Helen and Jay. I turned into Miss Matchmaker over those couple of weeks. He said he wanted her, and so, the good person I was - even though knowing full well Helen's feelings through all of this - I tried to get them together. He would have been good for her. Helen was even more dud with boyfriends and the like that me. Her trust issues stemmed from all sorts though and considering circumstances now, I should probably leave that as a story for her to tell. Helen, in short, was not at all interested in Jay and overnight I turned into agony aunt, being stuck in the middle and having to break it to him gently. In all honesty, he took it very well.

I don't like him. He just isn't for me. I don't fancy him back at all. I was she had said and I had lied through my teeth - and my keyboard - that she just didn't want a relationship right now. In becoming his shoulder to cry on, we inadvertently became tangibly closer and I allowed myself to fall for Jay.

In those few weeks of holiday, Rob never did answer my futile emails and I forgot about him, subsequently forgetting to care about the response he may have had. In the back of my mind, I knew that it wasn't his fault, he had explained he was away and probably wouldn't be able to email me, after all, that was why he'd given me his number in the first place, but I chose to not text or call him.

Even though Helen had turned him down - and I fully expected our friendship to run its course with the deliverance of that fact - Jay didn't stop talking to me. I texted him over Christmas and we ended up talking most evenings online. In fact, I distinctly remember him having no credit after I was texting him during Christmas day - for some reason, at the time, it never occurred to me that it could have just been an excuse. I was elated by his small text ending with Well I can't text you back after this so I'll talk to you online later. Merry Christmas xxxxx - I fully trusted him being truthful to me. I was beginning to break all the rules I'd developed regarding men since I was just 14 years old. I was falling deeper.

New Year came and went with Helen being at mine and I spending a long while using my phone to talk to Jay online. He was terribly cavalier in making sure he said polite hello's to Helen and making sure he asked how she was. He's so nice. I'd thought.

When I'd first texted him he'd been shocked. It hadn't occurred to me that I didn't actually ask for his number at any point that I talked to him. I had demanded it off a mutual friend, disguising my curiosity by saying "Oh he won't mind, and he's in physics and chemistry with me so I might need it later". I was forthcoming enough in admitting that I'd "requested" his number previously. I wanted to keep our mutual honesty intact. He was shocked, but didn't push me away. I had no idea at the time that he may actually have liked the idea that I had "requested" his number.

My mind should have been still connected to Rob when we started college again but my 17th birthday passed without much of a glance from him and we didn't talk until after Jay had asked me out. On the evening of the 9th of January 2000 - the millennium no less - he had asked me out over MSN. I know it seems silly that we got together over the computer but still, we were together. It came as a shock when my feelings formed properly for Jay after my birthday on the 6th. I hadn't had a chance to tell anyone yet really and I certainly didn't want to share it with Helen of all people. She wouldn't have understood. So I told Lottie instead and due to her coaxing, she pushed Jay to ask me out online. He wasn't terribly impressed with himself having to do that, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. I had finally bagged myself and boyfriend, and for the first time in a long while, my heart was singing again.

Once I had Jay, I forgot everything else. We were filling that weekend with texts from work on how we were, finding out more about each other, reaffirming our feelings for one another. Within days we were actually in love and no one could come between that. I did change, I see that now. I did change to be with him more so than my friends, but I don't regret it. Those friends that accepted him were welcomed with open arms, and those that were bothered by our intense relationship got told to kick it. Back then, I thought our whole relationship had started our rather quickly and we were driving at the speed of light, but in hindsight, it was a long time coming.

Rob didn't take the news well and I suffered backlash from a fair few people in the year above for moving on so quickly. People even accused me of cheating. I ignored most of it and curtly told Rob to tell his friends to back off because they don't know what they are saying. He had the odd argument with me, but in the end, myself and Jay went about our business regardless of any ill feeling.

A lot of people we knew doubted the foundations of our relationship. In their eyes it came from nowhere also. I quickly lost Helen. but that was her own stupidity that got her onto my black list. She had been blanking me for months preceding the start of myself and Jay's relationship and it was driving me mad that she was putting a wedge between our friendship. It got to the point, seven weeks down the line, that I snapped and the idiot she was, she blurted out that, only since we'd gotten together, she had feelings for Jay. That was it. I was truly livid and couldn't stand to be around her. I didn't know who she thought she was, but she certainly wasn't going to come near myself or Jay.

Past all the bad feeling among other people, our relationship blossomed into something above and beyond merely amazing. For those that doubted us, we not only proved their thoughts, spoken or otherwise, wrong, we laughed at the them. Jay still wasn't my traditional type. No. He was "The Only Type". He had this gorgeous body - beneath the jumpers he insisted in wearing at the start of our relationship. The very same jumpers that became redundant after a little while. His skin was oddly, but gloriously, tan. Odd because his parents were white, and glorious because it always seemed to glow so much brighter than my own olive, half cast, tan. His hair curled in beautiful ways, and although he cropped it short, above his forehead always sat two little blond curls - one above each temple. Although he had beautiful blond highlights, his hair was this dark brown, littered with caramel undertones all over. His body was strong in all aspects. His face held so much more interest than anywhere else on his body though. He had his beautiful nose with a little "nick" in it half way, where his bone jutted slightly beneath the skin. His cheek bones were high and his lips - although slightly off balance - were a beautiful padded bliss, that I had the pleasure of indulging my own small lips on for the first time just 3 days after he'd asked me to become his girlfriend. But, by far, the most interesting thing about him was his eyes. They were this glorious blue colour, with flecks of pale yellow and green throughout his iris. They never ceased to amaze me. I got lost his eyes so often, it's hard to believe I ever saw anything else. Perfectly shaped, his eyes held my own weird concoction of colour in a vice like grip. He always looked at me with such fervour and love. Every time I saw his face, it shocked me to believe that it took over two years for something to snap and me to become aware of how beautiful this man, nay, this creature - so above and beyond anything made on earth - was. I finally had that thought Gosh that man is an Adonis incarnate. I want him so badly. Why is he not running to me, grabbing me in his strong arms and kissing away all my thoughts? But whenever I did have that thought, he always did what my mind asked. In fact, he didn't even have to kiss me to clear my thoughts, he only had to look me in the eye. I loved Jay Grantham. I still love Jay Grantham.