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The last time I saw him, he was standing in the cold at the Metro Station, hands in his coat pockets, staring up at the train that would take me away from him forever. His name was David and he was a beautiful soul. He was tall and thin, with gorgeous green eyes and a big fabulous smile. He had a great personality and a terrific sense of humor one that drew me to him like a moth to a flame. I met David shortly after I moved to Florida. I was 23, alone, and he was one of the first people who had been kind enough to befriend me. We quickly became the best of friends, spending time together either grabbing something to eat at Denny's or just watching movies at my apartment. We talked, we laughed, we shared secrets. We were great friends and no lines had ever been crossed to say anything otherwise.

One Saturday morning at the crack of dawn, David knocked on my apartment door. I had been sleeping up to that point, but I got up, let him in without saying a word, and groggily shuffled my way back into my cozy bed. David plopped himself on the bed next to me, put his hand under the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. He turned his head toward me and said, "Can I ask you something?"

With one eye barely opened, I mumbled, "Yeah, what?"

"How do you know if you're in love with someone?"

The question dumbfounded me. I didn't know the answer. I didn't know how to respond. I didn't know who he was talking about, but I know it made me feel very jealous and I was suddenly very awake and alert. I replied with something along the lines of, "I don't knowdo you think about her a lot?"

"I think about her all the time, from the minute I wake up until I go to sleep at night," he replied.

"Do you want to see her all the time? Spend as much time with her as possible?" I continued my questioning. He replied that he did. To end the uneasiness of the conversation, I simply said, "Then it might well be that you're in love." I was 23 what the hell did I know?!

He got up, customarily kissed me on the forehead and left to go to work, without any other discussion. He left me perplexed, confused, and wondering who his mystery woman was. He hadn't mentioned anyone to me before why was he keeping this secret? I did not like the feeling of jealousy welling up inside of me. I knew I cared for David, but did I care more than I let myself believe? Why would I feel jealous of this mystery woman if I didn't? The feeling gnawed at me all day long.

Later in the afternoon, David came back to my apartment.

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