Ponder

How do you know you're in love? How do you know you're not in love? How do you know you've fallen out of love? When do you realize?
...

She arrives home in tears. She's not sure what's wrong; there was no argument, no hatred, but she feels unsettled and hurt. They exchanged I love yous as they parted, but she still can't shake the feeling that it was a farewell with finality, in a way. As she confusedly struggles to gain control over her tears, there is a knock at the door. She opens it.

It isn't Him, but it's still a familiar face. After a wide-eyed pause in the place of a greeting, she falls in silent sobs against him. Bewildered, he instinctively wraps his arms around her and strokes her hair. It surprises him how easily it returns to him, and how he finds himself wondering how he ever let go.

Some time goes by before either comes to themselves. She has calmed down, but misses Him intensely, feeling so empty even without a goodbye. He straightens her up, catching a brief glance at the time, hoping he's not keeping Her waiting. She apologizes for the emotions and the embrace, he assures her it was nothing; hugs are generally free between friends. A quick conversation without explanation, and then he leaves, having returned to her what he borrowed.

He leaves to meet Her at home, and she wearily climbs the stairs to sleep on the side of the bed that isn't hers. She does nothing but think of Him.
...

For love, I've given up an aspect of style, I've taken on a sport, I've defied the rules. I know I'm in love when I don't think anything is impossible for the one I love; I'm willing to lay it all on the line. I haven't loved them all, they haven't all loved me, and yes, I've been wrong before, but I've learned from my mistakes. Always, the worst was when I realized that I just didn't love him enough.