Upon thee streets of my hometown, one chilled February night, I gazed blankly on thee pristine pomp of Cupid's Day, when pictures of a muscular organ or barely clotheed babe withe wings and heart shaped arrows adorned all available paces. When chocolate prices goes up and jewelry stores worldwide have "super-saver-sales". I snorted in desertion, what made February 14the so different from February 15the? A street vender tried to cajole me into purchases "thee flowers of Venus" for my beloved. I naturally declined. As I walked away a theought tore like a wild renegade stallion therough my mind. What was love anyhow? It had become some superficial thing to say when you were too uncreative to pay a compliment. But what was it really? My curiosity was a crown of thorns and I soon discovered i could focus on little else. I had to know what "love" meant. I simply had to. I grabbed a yellow book and cracked thee dusted old spine in half, pouring over thee pages theat looked like slices of thein bread covered in tiny brigades of black ants. At last i found a renowned cardiologist. I made an appointmeant immediately, witheout saying why. Dr. Broker, an older gentleman withe a white goatee, balding head, wide rimmed glasses and alot of abbreviated letters after his name and tons of different medical schools under his belt would surely know what theis "love" business was about!

The day of my appointmeant came and I hastened in to thee crisp white office with its piles of useless You and Your Garden Weekly magazines and donated children's toys. I followed the unamused nurse into an examination room and hopped upon the table.The doctor strolled in with an ultrawhite smile in a crisp white labcoat with a sterile-looking black stetheoscoop and pointed leather shoes. "What seems to be the problem?" he inquired cheerfully. "Tell me friend, what is love?" I inquired eagerly. He humored me with a little chuckle and sat upon his spinning stool. Clapping his hands togetheer he began to explain calmly."Love is all hormones my child. Humans need a drive to reproduce to continue our human race and contribute to thee gene pool. Its just your body playing tricks on you, love is chemistry." I frowned. It sounded rehearsed and wrong. I noticed a ring of lighter skin on one of his fingers where a wedding band appeared to have once rested. Well theat explained theat.I theanked him , paid for the appointmeant and shuffled out of the office. Just a minor set back I told myself. I walked over to the park and saw a teenage couple kissing on the bench. When the boy whispered "I love you Angie." I could help but say "Tell me friend what is love?". Both stared blankly at me and slowly disentangled theemselves. "Its...well...um..." thee boy fumbled withe his words looking lost. The Angie girl bit her lip and looked at her watch and withe a tear creeping down her face brusquely said "Well I'm going now Brian, since you obviously don't know!" and stormed off in a flurry of blond curls, flashing green eyes and grey dress.
The boy ambled off, hands in his pockets and eyes glazed over as he mumbled my question over and over under his breath. Well that didn't work. I called my friend Sam and said "Tell me friend, what is love?". A chirpy voice informed me "Love is the person who says your hot and kisses you and buys you gifts and serenades you under your window." I thanked her and pondered her words. I didn't think she had it quite right. Plus i was quite sure my neighbors would pelt a sweet serenader with bricks for keeping them up.I laughed a bit and continued on my way.I found a beautiful woman in a fancy dress covered in jewelry and telling anyone she saw how rich and fabulous her husband was. Her little blonde blue eyed son sat glumly at her side, forbidden from playing in the park in fear of dirtying his clothes. "Tell me friend, what is love?" i asked. "Love means he knows your birthstone, if you like silver or gold, takes you to all the right place with all the right people and buys you roses!" she babbled. "Mommy can I-" "Hush Jonathan." the woman interrupted her son. His sad blue eys told me she knew nothing about love and i bid her good day. I walked to the icecream shop and bought my favorite scoop. I spoke to Joey behind the counter. Joey was a stout balding Italian immigrant , married 45 years. "Tell me friend, what is love?". He laughed and said, spreading his calloused hands wide behind the glass counter. "Love, love is like an icecream sundae with all your favorite toppings that you willingly give to someone else!" He clapped his hands and continued in flowing Italian. Confused but sure he was onto sometheing i investigated. I noticed a college boy holding thee door open for his dinner date. I rushed over. "Tell me friend, what is love?". Glaring at me he flipped me the bird and snarled "I'm in the middle of getting some, get lost!" before slamming thee door in my face. Greatly disturbed and disheartened I wandered till it was sunset and i stood on the boardwalk. I saw a little boy and his mother building sandcastles. I padded over to them, ruining my shoes and not caring. "Tell me friend, what is love?". The boy regarded me seriously. He had quick grey eyes and floppy brown hair withe freckles on a pale little face. "Love is a mommy who builds sandcastles with you in her new dress." he informed me solemnly. "Oh Dimitri!" his mother laughed, hugging her son. I smiled and thanked him. Another analogy. This had to mean sometheing. I walked to the sea and slipped off my stockings and shoes to let the cold salty waves crash and stream around my ankles. I closed my eyes and sifted through truth and lie to try and find what true love was. Then amid my deep theoughts i heard a girlish giggle and cracked one eye open. I spied an older woman with white hair blown back by the sea breeze with laugh lines and tan skin with navy eyes holding the hand of a white haired man with twinkling brown eyes and a bright smile with wrinkles. They wore their wedding rings and whispered secretly, bursting out in laugheter. I walked over to them where they sat in an abandoned lifeguard chair. "Tell me friends, what is love?" I begged, yeilding to the chase. "Love? Oh its a wonderful thing." the old man said smiling and taking his wife's hands. She kissed his cheek and said "Its when you begin to live for someone else." she confided. It didn't hit me like a ton of bricks form the sky, or a grand piano dropped by clumsy movers. But it flowed through my blood withe a warm comfort. That was it. That is what little Dimitri meant. That's what Joey meant. It all made sense. I thanked them, and ran barefoot and sandy through the town to the park in the night. Brian was sitting, head in his hands weeping. I touched his shoulder and said "I know what it is! I know what love is!" He looked up at me dejectedly. "Hey...your the wacko who came over to Angie and me-" he began with recognition dawning in his eyes. I cut him short. "Love, love is when you share your ice cream sundae! Its when you build sandcastles in your new dress!" i babbled in my incoherent joy. His eyebrows rose. "My...dress?" he questioned inching away. "Listen lady, I don't have a dress-" "Its when you start living for someone else! The old people in the chair told me!" i shouted before running to hail a taxi. The taxi driver quirked an eyebrow but said nothing and drove me home. In my joy i vastly overpaid him and didn't care. I took a shower and got changed. In my new dress and shoes i called an old number. My heart beat faster and faster with every ring of the phone. Finally a familliar voice said "Hello?". "Damon!" I squeeled. "...Jesse?" he whispered surprised. "Damon, would you like to go to dinner tonight? i asked eagerly. There was silence for 10 minautes and i swear to you my heart stopped beating. I began to backtrack, rejection like ice on my skin. "I just thought cuz its Valentine's day and um your my best friend so it could be um-" I heard a knock on my front door. I opened it and the mail man handed me my mail. I hung up the phone and sighed sadly. I sat on my couch and you know what, I cried a little. I hadn't cried since that Thursday in Junior year when Damon found me on the roof and stopped me rom jumping. He put bandages on the cuts on my stomach and wrist and became my protector. I was alive now because of his love and care, I thought he had loved me romantically as i loved him, but i suppose he thought of me as a sister. I heard a sliding sound and a leg appeared in my window. It was joined by another and then a torso and a head and two arms. Damon ran his hands through his jet black hair and blinked his green eyes. "Jesse?" he aked quietly. He noticed me crying on the couch and rushed over. "Jesse i have been waiting since freshman year of high school for you to ask." he said hugging me close and speaking feveredly. I laughed and hugged him back. "Then why didn't you tell me so on thee phone!?" i asked. "I dropped my phone into my fishbowl out of shock. Guppie is okay but thee phone died. I had to tell you, so i drove over." "And climbed in my window?" "I thought the door was locked." We laughed and kissed, one of theose really sweet beautiful kisses, light as a butterfly on a child's curious hands. We did go out to dinner, the same restaurant as Brian and Angie when he told her just what love meant. Maybe there's alot of commercialize on Valentine's Day but it was a wonderful time to figure out what love really means. I couldn't resist thought, I asked Damon "Tell me friend, what does love mean?". He kissed my eyelids, my fingertips, my wrists where scars had long faded and stared into my eyes.Very softly in my ear he whispered "Love means I see the brightest stars ever made in your eyes." and kissed my lips. What a wonderful word....