When You're Loved: Write either a brief history of your love life, or a single story about the love of your lifetime.

This one's hard. I currently have no love life, and thinking about my past love life makes me sad. Anyway.

I remember when I first met David, who was to be the love of my life. It was February 11, 198- and we were set up on a blind date by our mutual friend Anissa (my co-worker; David's roommate's girlfriend). We met up at the Garden Lounge, had a few drinks and made small talk. Once we got Anissa out of the way (she was staying in case she had to run interference, but after about 20 minutes all three of us realized it wasn't necessary), he and I ended up sitting in the bar talking about everything and nothing all night. The bartender finally kicked us out around 2 a.m., so then we stood out in the parking lot in the freezing temperatures talking for another hour or so, before finally heading to our respective homes for the remainder of the night. Or morning. Whatever. The following afternoon, he called me, and we talked for another couple hours. The next day, he called me again, and again we talked for a very long time.

The day after that I was at work; it was Valentine's Day. I didn't think anything of it, so I was totally surprised when a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses was delivered to the store where I worked. They were from him, and were accompanied by a note which read Interested and Intrigued. It made me feel all funny inside - sort of dizzy and euphoric and twelve-years-old at the same time. I couldn't help myself, and giggled and blushed like a school girl for the rest of the day. And, yet, it seemed a bit odd that a guy I'd only met a few days before would send me flowers for Valentine's Day. It seemed a bit obsessive to me, but eventually I chilled out, and continued to see him.

Eventually we lived together, and later I moved with him to his "Shangri-La" – the Oregon coast. Things were okay before we moved, but afterwards, it got hard. We both hated our jobs, and were so far away from our family and friends support system. Things fell apart, and things are wont to do. A few weeks shy of our sixth anniversary, he left. And, yeah, even after all these years, it still hurts.

I hate to even give him the satisfaction of thinking there's never been another man like him for me, but honestly, there hasn't. Sure, there was Kenny, and I really liked him, and we had a great time together, but I couldn't do it. I was too scared. I was scared to let a man get to me like David did, and I refused to be used like I let David use me, only to be tossed aside when he was finished. So, I dumped Kenny before Kenny could dump me. I still hate myself for that.

So, yeah, there's never been another man like David in my life, and there never will be. I won't allow it.