Grilled Cheese Enlightenment

After four and a half years of searching, the devine knowledge is at long last mine. On that day, four and a half years ago, I thought I was a master of grilled cheese until a man named Evan showed me differently. I reluctantly admitted that he made a better sandwhich than I did. I admitted, happily and freely, that I made the second best grilled cheese sandwhich in all of Ontario. A lofty claim, perhaps, but the only sandwhich better than my own I had ever eaten was Evan's. My claim to grilled cheese superiority was bolstered by those around me, who would eat my sandwhich and atest for their wonderful quality.
We even planned evenings around a bountiful feast of grilled cheese (complete with retro 80's Dune and Geek). We anticipated the evening for weeks, talked about it in english class and, yes, the sandwhiches were good, but not as good as Evan's.
Time passed, sandwiches were made and eaten, and eventually I was forced to move on to the wonderful land of university. I was soon forced with terrible circumstances: strange pans and elements, new kinds of bread, lack of butter. It was difficult to overcome these obstacles. Eventually, however, I was satisfied with my craft, and could say that, while in Scarborough, I could still make the second best grilled cheese sandwhich in all of Ontario.
Then, there was a fateful day (today, in fact). I found myself facing a terrible truth - the pan that is better for making eggs had dissapeared, and the grilled cheese pan remained. Although I had intended to make bacon and eggs, I instead began crafting the sandwhich. Three slices of cheese per sandwich, carefully cut to the perfect thickness to allow for the best possible flavour and quantity of cheese without being messy. I got out the butter, and began to apply it to the bread. I carefully turned over every other peice, so that when the sandwhiches were cooked, the faces of the bread that had been together as it was cut would remain facing each-other. This is so the cheese does not leak out unmatched sides of bread. Lastsly, I walked over to the pan, and droped the sandwiches in.
A Perfect Circle played on the stereo quietly, and you could just hear my roommate playing the bass softly in the distance. The butter sizzled in the pan and began to turn the bread a golden brown colour, transforming it to the crispy outter shell of a grilled cheese sandwich. The radiant heat of the pan made it's way throught the transforming bread and started to melt the cheese. At the perfect moment, I flipped the sandwhiches, and the process was repeated on the other side. Soon, I took them off the pan, and placed them carefully on the plate. Looking at these two sandwiches, I knew there was something different about them, something special.
I applied a glob of ketchup to the plate, and carefully went to sit down and eat.
As my teeth sank into the first sandwhich, dipped in the ketchup, I tasted something that I had only ever tasted once before --

THE BEST GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH IN ALL OF ONTARIO!

With ecstatic joy, I consumed the two sandwhiched, avouring every bite. They were perfectly crispy and golden, there was just enough cheese melted to the perfect point. The flavour is unlike any other grilled cheese sandwhich you can imagine. I even applied the absolute perfect amount of ketchup to the plate. I did not need to add more, and yet none remained after the last bite. I do not claim to have surpassed Evan, merely to have matched his skill. I have reached the point where I can say I can make the best grilled cheese sandwhich in all of Ontario. I have matched the master, and need not go any further.

I have reached Grilled Cheese Enlightenment.