You may have seen him around the library or pizza corner. You may have known him if you worked at the Second Cup, or the Black Market, or the many names of the bar above Sicilian pizza. Maybe you grew up in Hubbards and had a camp up Mill Lake. He had a long beard, a cap and a smoke. Often hiding a bottle of rum in his shirt. As a friend of his I will miss him. His stories, yarns, inquiries about the family, his big heart. He was always around growing up and later in my adulthood. Locations changed from Hubbards to Halifax, but he was the same.

I would like to thank all those who gave him a helping hand the past few years in here; whether it was a soft seat and coffee, a chat and a smoke, a basket of fries, a kind hand at the hospital while he tried to convince the nurses it was OK to smoke out the window or a ride out to see Dad and go sit by the lake. He will be missed by many. The library won't be the same for me now. –The MacLean Kids

There's this girl, we'll call her Jane.

Back in 11th grade (I'm now fourth year uni), I fell for her. She was everything I looked for back then—gorgeous, athletic, loads of fun, spontaneous and REAL. Jane was certainly different than the other girls her age, and people knew it. She knew it. I fucking loved that. I asked her out, and got denied for another guy. I settled for becoming a close friend. I was secretly planting seeds. Eventually, in senior year she noticed the connection we had and we started dating. We were both virgins. She was my first and I was hers, and we were so comfortable with each other that experimenting in bed was easy and eventually we were having passionate, passionate sex all the time. We had so much fun, and spent every minute we could together.

However, we were young and had lots of growing up and changing to do. I expected problems, but my feelings for her never changed. Senior year passed and we went to different universities (both in HFX)...I cheated on her, and felt excruciating guilt. We had our share of problems but she was deeply in love with me, and I felt it (and vice versa) so we always stuck it out.

She turned into the perfect woman. Strikingly and naturally gorgeous, intelligent, hilarious, independent—the list goes on. I wanted to marry her. Other than my mother, she's the only woman I'm completely comfortable crying in front of. I laid my entire psyche out for her. The stuff I usually keep reserved for me. She accepted ME and I, her. We're passionate, artistic and thoughtful. We just worked. We brought out each other's best, and worst. We developed a truly honest and meaningful relationship. Every time we kissed, I felt peace of mind. She fit me like mittens. I was so incredibly comfortable and in love with this girl. She felt it too, and I know it.

I guess we got bored with how functional we were. We wanted to explore the things, and people we missed out on while dating (sounds stupid, but it's complicated and I don't know how else to put it). We had an 'on and off' period, and though the sex remained amazing, we eventually parted ways (she dumped me) and started seeing other people. I moved on quickly, as the gap she left was pretty big and I just needed SOMEONE. We remained close friends (every so often giving in to one another's booty calls) and remain that way now.

I've recently embarked on a personal pilgrimage (mentally), to re-evaluate what's important to me and who I really am. I’ve become wise to my outside influences and my deep-rooted problems. However, I’ve noticed that in all my changing, one thing remains...my feelings for her. Though I'm always open to seeing other people, I'm still the 17-year-old kid, deeply and passionately in young, puppy love with Jane. We’ve both changed and grown up, but we’re still the same people we were back when it was so blissful. What we had shouldn’t and hopefully won’t be ignored or forgotten.

Jane, if you’re reading this, I want you to know that you’re still a delight to me. A privilege. I love you to no end, and regardless of your feelings for me I will remain silently and passionately, yours. —Joe, A Sappy Romantic

I have loved you since the first day we met. Your quiet demeanour and your hidden face have always intrigued me and I will never forget the way we made love. You were my first true love and for all the things that went wrong, you were the first person I genuinely wanted to spend the rest of my life with. The distance was too much for both of us and we live two very different lives at the moment...but not unlike goodbyes or so-longs in old-timey love letters between distance lovers, I know that this is not the end of the great love story that is us. I will love you until I can't and I desperately hope that the same is true for you. If you had of asked me I would have said yes, but neither of us were there by the time this had to end.

I love you. I will forever. You are my soulmate. Keep me with you, in your heart. —Lost Without You

I love them. So much. Why would I pay 99 cents for one song that is encoded to a fifth of CD quality when I can get an entire cd of CD-quality sound for 99 cents? Where is my artwork and lyrics? Where is the journey of an album? With the 99 cent, 256kbps AAC file?

I tried and tried. I was almost tricked by it all too. The progress that we've made. Progress is a good thing, right? Just download the songs you like. And then download more songs that you like. Here today, gone tomorrow. You won't even notice when it goes missing from your computer cause it's been lost in a pile of 256 kbps AAC files, unheard, for months anyway.

But a CD is there. For you. You can see it and touch it. The artwork reminds you. It reminds you of buying it. It reminds you of opening it and smelling that smell of plastic and chemical- soaked paper. So. I know maybe all that is bad for the earth and all, but Iplan to keep my CDs forever anyway. and I'll play them on my Sony CDP-555esd that was made in ’87, once I get it. But I only mention that cause they used to make things so that when they broke, you fixed it. I know. It's right crazy. Cause now, if it breaks, you buy a new one. You trash the old one and buy a new and better one. I can't even easily change the battery of my iPod. Cause most likely when the battery wears out, the latest greatest most needed iPod will be available. And since it costs about $100 to replace your iPod battery through Apple, you might as well just buy the latest greatest. Right?

So I love you 99 cent CD. You are everywhere now since everyone is dumping you in favour of the 256kbps AAC file.

So don't scrape the paint off of you house before you send those old CDs to the 99-cent CD store. It seems like some of you do that. Or something. How else a CD gets to look like that, I don't know. Just use the proper equipment to resurface your driveways. With a CD, you just put it in the player and then put it in the case. I don't even know how you would use a CD to pull up carpet. But people do it. It seems.

Yay. Special. Magic. Flowers. 99 cent CDs. —Glossy Format Hater