"Time heals all wounds huh? Who's the genius that came up with that mantra? I'd like to meet him and ask him if he actually believes in what he's said. I mean really, would he expect that even after say, what, 30 years it would get easier to remember a loved one? Shit, even I know I won't live that long, but even after five, it still hurts. Every day I wake up and she's still not in my arms. Everyday I wake up and I hear her damn cat crawling around somewhere and, stupid me, I'll think it's her and I have a freaking relapse. I hate that damned cat by the way. Anita, she named it. She said that was going to be the name of her first child. I found it a little odd, naming your cat after your child that hasn't even been born yet, but that was her. Always thinking into the future, always thinking how good things were going to be. I mean, I always thought of the bad. Not on purpose, but I was always thinking 'When is one of us going to get sick and when is all this happiness going to end?' and with that question always in my mind, I always kissed her too much. Hugged her too hard. Nuzzled her too softly. Made love to her too much. But, that was because I wanted to revel in the goodness, you know? I wanted to savor it, savor every last moment I was with her. I contemplated quitting this job so many goddamned times, just so I could go home and lay in bed with her all the time, never leave her side.

"Eventually, I realized that I couldn't remember her without crying. I couldn't remember her quirky little outfits, her glowing personality, and her selflessness without shedding a single tear." He reaches up to wipe away a tear. "It's just impossible. So, I figured if I was going to remember her at all, I'd have to have an all out crying session. I'd have to, or else the pain would eat away me. Sometimes I'd be sitting in my best friend's loft and she'd just all the sudden wash over me like a wave in the ocean and I'd just have to stop whatever I was doing and cry. I know, a big, burly black guy crying his eyes out like a little baby.

"I can't tell you it's gotten easier, because that would be a lie. I can't tell you its gotten more fun to remember her as she was, not sick, but that would be a lie. I just remember her when her days were winding down. Some mornings she'd wake up tired and exhausted, but she'd still get up and throw on her best outfit, a skimpy little skirt and the highest heels she owned, and face the world with all the energy she had left. No matter what. No day but today. That's how she rolled. And all I can think about when I remember that, is what if she'd taken it easier? What if she hadn't run herself ragged and physically drained herself of all energy? Would she still be here today, right now? Would she have lasted a little bit longer?

"I remember the day she died. I don't know why, but everything was real somber. I woke up, and I just remember feeling so guilty because when I looked at her, I could tell she was hanging on for me. She wouldn't die for me. She was making herself suffer just for me. She was living on love, my love, and that just tore me apart. I couldn't stand to see her in pain any more than she could stand to be in it, you know? I couldn't stand knowing that she wouldn't die so I wouldn't have to suffer. I looked at her and I started bawling like a little baby, realizing that what I was about to say could basically rip my life apart and tear my heart into so many pieces I could die from it myself, but I said it anyways. I cupped her face in my hands and I said 'Angel, you have to die. You can't keep torturing yourself for me. I'm going to be fine,' and that's when I noticed her eyes glossing over. She got this real dreamy look in her eyes and she said 'Collins, what do you think its like up there? Do you think there'll be flowers?' and I couldn't help but smile. I thought she was going crazy, but then she looked at me, real serious, and said 'Collins, I love you with all of my heart. You're the only thing that's keeping me alive and I love you for it. I'll always love you, no matter where I am, and I'll always be with you, no matter where you are. Don't die for me, live for me,' and she kissed me. And let me tell you, if I was a sixteen-year-old boy, I would'a called my best friend and bragged about that kiss. It made me giddy, made my insides melt, made my knees feel like jelly. I never wanted it to end. It startled me at how she could kiss me with so much force and passion. It still shocks me to this day, I mean she was dying for Christ's sake and she kissed me as if she wasn't sick at all, like she'd just ran a marathon and would run it all over again. And then she asked me to hold her and sing to her, so, still crying like a baby, I got into bed with her, cradled her, kissed the top of her head, and. . .she died.

"Love is everything it's cracked up to be. Angel made it worth the pain of her dying. I'd probably be dead right now if I'd never met Angel. I love Angel so much, and I'm not going say that I want to keep living and teaching and dreaming, because that's not what I want. What I want is to be with Angel. But she wants me to live and be happy, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. Her needs come before mine. She told me she wanted me to move on, but after a person like Angel that's not really possible. I did go out on a few dates here and there, but every time they got anywhere near me, they'd turn into Angel and I couldn't do it. I just had to stop myself. So, I did try and move on, but I'll never really, truly move on. Call me faithful, call me an idiot. Whatever. I call it being in love.

"Well, what I came here to talk to you guys about was love and that's what I did. I talked about love, and I talked about pain. Your professor over there is just trying to get you guys to open up, and he thinks that me talking at this big, stupid assembly is going to do that because I've loved and I've lost. That's what I was sent here to teach you. I may just be a philosophy teacher, and I just might not know anything at all, but I do know this: Live. Just live. Life may be shitty, and that guy or girl you flirted with may not have seen the same in you that you saw in them, but there's someone out there. Honestly. They could be right in front of your face.

"Y'see, Angel was a street drummer. I've lived in the East Village my entire life and I'd seen Angel so many times and given her so much of my money for her drumming, but I never gave it a second thought. Sometimes I wish I'd just stuck around and talked to her, but that's not what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to find me in that alley and she was supposed to die. I actually don't know how long I've got left, but I'm not willing to tempt fate. I hear fuckin' with karma's not too good of an idea.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is to be young, be happy, and don't stop searching for love." His eyes drift down to the man in the audience who's wearing a scarf who's been filming him the entire time. "And if you've found love, hold onto it." His eyes shift over to the two women sitting next to him, holding each other and crying. "And once you hold onto it, cherish it forever and never let it die." His eyes then drift over to the tiny dancer and the rocker, who are crying all the same. "Don't lose hope, don't stop dreaming, and most importantly: don't stop loving. Thanks."

He steps down off the podium, losing himself in the loud and raucous applause of the audience and wipes tears away. Forgetting the five people who've crowded around him, hugging him and saying words of praise, he looks to the sky, past the clouds, past the stars and into heaven, into his Angel's eyes.