Alarmed, I realized what my visceral reaction implied: jealousy. Over a guy I barely knew, with whom I’d exchanged more saliva than sentences.

The truth was, he now belonged only to my past, and it was time I begin to accept it, as much as it hurt to do so.

I'd basically described myself: a quiet, studious bookworm who would go to bed at a decent hour. A non-partier who wouldn't bring a parade of boys through our room, or make it the floor headquarters for beer pong.

Please touch me. I need you to touch me.

The getting is easy; the keeping is the important part.

Rather than raising his voice like everyone else, he leaned close to my ear and asked, "Dance with me?" I felt his warm breath and inhale the scent of his aftershave -something basic and male.

People feel the need to choose sides when a relationship splits - it's human nature.