When I was in a junior in high school I met and exclusively dated a devout Roman Catholic. To me she was the most Christian person I ever associated with: selfless, intelligent, hardworking, studious, a natural around children, great sense of humor, humble, and never made any fuss over her appearance like most teenage girls at that age, even though the one time I saw her with her hair styled and her face in makeup she looked amazing (our Senior Prom: her eyes were the kind of blue that made you want to fly a kite in them). Her parents and siblings loved me (she told me at a late time that her dad thought I was a "breath of fresh air", as she dated six other guys before the age of sixteen, and most of them were jerks), and it seemed to me that the more time we spent with each other, the more natural and deeper our relationship became. We went on nine dates over a two-year period, and if things were different I'd have been with her longer or perhaps even married her, save for the two very big elephants in the room: 1) My own self-doubts and anxieties, and 2) I was an actively practicing Mormon, and if any of you guys know anything about each of these respective faiths, you would know that doctrinally they don't quite see eye to eye. Sufficed to say, because of these differences we eventually drifted apart: she stayed home while I moved to Utah without saying goodbye to begin my freshman year at BYU. It was the biggest mistake I ever made in my life bar none and ultimately the snowflake that began the avalanche of my disassociation with any form of organized religion.
