True. He asked me to dance. If it had been a movie script, he would have gently taken me in his arms, held me close, put his hand gently but safely on my lower back and firmly guided me on the dance floor. The twinkling lights would have gently brightened our eyes and by the end of the dance our cheeks would be touching, our lips would be close, and our bodies would be one.

But no! That is not how love started in our case. The music was pumping, the lights were flashing and suddenly out of nowhere he started doing flips on the vast dance floor. He was so agile, energetic, sleek, fit, and fun. And my heart started doing flips, dips and kicks.

A couple of nights later, when we were on a real date, we did have a slow dance together. And then it was a movie dance. We fit together like the last two pieces of a giant jigsaw puzzle. This time my heart wasn't flipping, it was melting.

Above picture shows a sample of his agility. After he died, I got a Facebook friend request from one of his college friends (who I didn't know was there that night). He sent me a message that read something like, "right before he asked you to dance, he said to me, 'she is the one,' and he never talked like that. I knew right then, that you were the one."

This month's contest. To the Nights We'll Never Forget.