Was it love when we stood on the seaside promenade in the stormy rain, listing all the reasons we shouldn't be together while our eyes were helplessly drawn to each other's lips? Was it love when I would crawl out of bed at 2 AM so I could exchange a few words with you, which inevitably turned into an hour long conversation? Was it love when we pledged to be together forever, finding ways to fit into each other's dreams? Was it love when you felt compelled to pour out every idea to me in excruciating detail, while the mere sound of your voice set my senses on fire? Was it love when I searched for reasons to speak to you, your words providing me solace in the darkest hours? Was it love when I declared my passion for you, intoxicated and incoherent, surrounded by so many censuring eyes? Was it love when all I looked forward to were your Skype calls even though the connection allowed us to exchange barely a few lines? Was it love when I couldn't enjoy a single day at work after you quit, assailed as I was by your memories? Was it love when you said you missed me, that whoever I'd be with would be immeasurably lucky? Was it love when the mere mention of your name made me blush furiously? Was it love when your embrace made me feel like I was finally whole? Was it?