"She's just too good to be true..."

Enough of these rambling accounts of thieving and miscreancy. There is more to my
college experience than that. I am a deep and sensitive individual, and to prove it, I’m
dedicating this one to my special somebody, the one who lights up my eyes and gives me
a reason to wake up in the morning.

I first met her halfway through the first semester of my freshman year. I was at the
University Bookstore, shopping for something to get me through the chilly November
days. That’s when I saw her, and I knew I’d never be cold again. She drew my eyes to her
and stood out completely from the crowd, with a special sort of radiance about her. And
for once, I lost all my timidity. I walked right up and introduced myself. We talked for a
while, and seemed to really hit it off. At one point my hand brushed hers, and all I could
think about was how soft she felt. I was terrified at the thought of leaving, but when I told
her I must go, she actually agreed to come back to the hall with me! I was sure she could
hear the pounding of my heart at that point, but she didn’t say a word, she just walked out
of the store with me, shining with cheerfulness.

And so began the most wonderful relationship of my life. Sylvia and I became inseparable.
We would meet first thing in the morning, and go to classes with each other. At noon we’d
eat lunch with one another, or maybe just hang out somewhere on campus. Evenings
would be spent surfing the internet, or sometimes just kicking back and playing video games.
It didn’t matter what we did, she was just happy to see me happy. Weekends we’d catch
a movie, or if the money was a bit low, we might just cuddle up at home and read. She
was perfect. She would listen to anything I said, and she never judged me. I knew that
whatever I did would be fine by her. We shared many of the same interests, the same
tastes in films and foods and comics. My life had never been better.

At Christmas time she came back home with me. I was a little nervous, but my family
accepted her like one of their own. My friends all thought she was cool, and we spent
most of the break just all hanging out together, cracking jokes and having a good time.
That second semester was a tough one for me. I had a lot of pressure in my classes, and in
addition I had a few personal tragedies to deal with it. But regardless of how bad it got, I
never had to face it alone. Sylvia was always there at my side, supporting me, comforting
me with a warm embrace. She didn’t even have to say anything, just knowing she was
there was enough. And when the dust settled, I had a year of college under my belt, and I
was stronger for it. But this was to be our most trying time. The hot June days had come,
and we had to separate for the summer. I was afraid that something might happen, that she
might find someone else while I was gone, but she calmed my fears, she reassured me that
when next September came, she’d be there, and it’d all be fine. I was apprehensive, and
spent the next three months worrying, but when school time rolled around, I came back
and there she was, waiting with open arms. We still spend every day together, and
every day I appreciate her more.

Now, some people tell me that our relationship isn’t healthy. They give me strange looks
and talk about us behind our backs, whispering unkind things. One person finally told me
these things to my face. He came to me and said, “Matt, you and Sylvia, it’s just not
natural, it’s not right.”
“Why,” I responded," because she’s a little different? Because she’s not the same as
everyone else? How can you be so cruel, judging her just by her looks. She’s special to
me, and that’s all that matters.”
“Matt, no, it’s not the way she looks. It’s just...what she is.”
“Oh yeah? And just what’s that, Mr. High-and-Mighty?”
“Dammit, man, get a grip on yourself. She’s a friggin sweatshirt!”

I smiled a little private smile and walked on, leaving him in his closed-mindedness. I knew
it would someday come down to this. I knew that the others wouldn’t understand, couldn’t
understand. They didn’t see her like I did. To their eyes she was just a gold hooded
sweatshirt. I knew better, she was so much more: a friend, a companion, a guide and a
guardian. I knew every thread and stitch of her, I knew just what made her up. She’s a
fluffy cotton-polyester blend, with a nice shiny zipper and a warm sheltering hood, all
covered with a deep golden dye, though not as golden as the heart beating within her. To
them she's a jacket, but to me? To me she is Sylvia, my Sweatshirt Girlfriend.