Oh Sweet Helena!

When I was a young man, many untruths reigned freely in my troubled mind. Despite my father’s wisdom, I regularly mistook any fleeting glance from a lady to be signs of unrequited love. The passions that raged within me from these accidental moments would be quelled only by drowning them later in wine, when I would writhe in miserable anguish on the study floor, red sediment staining my lips from their familiar hold on the bottle.

Helena was by far the most thirst-inducing of all the nymphs of my youth. Oh sweet Helena, forgive my foolishness!