Alexander Hamilton walked into my life so unexpectedly that it seems as though he was a dream. He was tall, he was painstakingly beautiful, and most of all-he had the brains of all the geniuses put together. Alexander Hamilton was my type of man.
We were roommates, becoming friends instantly. He told me of his upbringing, a woeful tale that I wish not to think of. He grew up in Nevis, in the Caribbean. He was a charter. And when he came here, he joined the Continental army, and became my friend.
My best friend.
And my lover.
Our love was forbidden by the government, by laws and by moral code. We were secret about what we did, but every moment we spent together were moments spent well. I did not waste any time with Alexander; he meant too much to me to give him up completely.
I don't know if he felt the same.