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This is something I've wanted to get off my chest for a very long time. I buried it deep down in my soul, in my memory, for so very long, where it's eroded my confidence and filled me with guilt. But with all the controversy, I realize it's only a matter of time before my name comes out in print. It's only a matter of time before my family is dragged through the circus we call our national media.

To avoid this, I've decided to admit my actions and tell my own story.

It happened in the fall of 1993. I was in college at Eastern Michigan University. This was during a time when my current wife and I were in a somewhat rocky part of our relationship, based mainly on my lack of a life goal. I can't say that my actions were okay, but I can say that they were not entirely a form of betrayal. We were, as we said at the time, free to see other people. But we still held on to our relationship, and I should have told her about what happened at that time, but I couldn't. It would have made me felt so tawdry, and so hurtful.

Here's what happened.

I was at a party at my roommate's fraternity. My roommate, whose name I won't mention, was in fact a member of the Young Republicans. I think he'd invited me to the party because he thought I was a straight-laced guy who wouldn't be able to hold my liquor. It was nearly true, but even though I was a few years older than him and his friends, no man could drink beer faster than me. A fact I proved when the beer bong was passed my way.

I think I impressed them, in fact. But that's not what this letter is about.

As the people at the party warmed to me, and as the night wore on, I relaxed more and more. I only knew my roommate, so the faces of the guys in the fraternity were all new to me. Which is why I didn't recognize _his_ face as one belonging to a party crasher.

He stood in the doorway of the dining room of the frat house, tall and strong, with the state seal of Hawaii embossed upon his chest. He didn't seem nervous, despite being so green, and I was impressed with his charisma. I hate to tempt ridicule by risking cliche, but he simply filled me with ... hope. We got to talking and soon he asked me if I wanted to go for a walk. I said yes.

We strolled around the university campus, talking about his favorite haunts in Honolulu (the Department of Health, oddly enough), and what he was hoping to accomplish in his life. I was impressed with his forthrightness, and even though he was a Certification of Live Birth and not a "Certificate" of Live Birth, I knew in my heart that he was the real thing.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but I succumbed to his tender talk of of the island of Oahu, of his tattoos listing his mother's maiden name, and his father's African race. He got closer to me and I said, "We can't," but his soothing voice assured me, "Yes we can."

We found a secluded spot by the Union Hall, and on that unusually warm night, we made sweet sweet love in the un-mowed grass. It was daring, and beautiful, and risky -- any member of the Democratic Party or even someone who would go on to write for WorldNetDaily.com could have walked by. But we were both young, though he older than I, and the time was right, the stars aligned, and the libations potent enough. Time stood still for those moments, and though they were long, they felt fleeting -- like the morals of any GOP politician -- and it was over before either of us were ready for it to be.

Afterwards, he walked me home and said farewell at the door to my dormitory, not wanting to come up for coffee or any other nightcap, unwilling to spoil what we'd shared. My heart raced when I thought he'd kiss me one more time, but he didn't. I understand why, at least now, in retrospect. His whispered words, "It's our time for change," filled me with an optimism I'd theretofore not felt. He had big things planned in his life, and a path he needed to find on his own.

Even though we never met again, I will always remember that night. My feelings were mixed with guilt for my beautiful girlfriend (now my wife), and the joy I can't quite forget.

So when I hear that he's in the news now, that people doubt his authenticity, that they say he's a sham, that he's a plant, or a fake, I know in my heart it's not true. I know this, I know him, just as I know in my heart of hearts that we shared this time together.

Yes, I slept with Obama's birth certificate, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.