Things change. It's one of those inescapable natural laws they conveniently gloss over in fifth grade science class. Sure, we learn that seasons change, the rotation of the earth, but how about our lives, our thoughts, our dreams, our very existence. Nothing ever stays the same, no matter how much we wish it would. Your body, millions of cells destroyed and born again every day, is never the same from one moment to the next. It's biological. Thoughts appear in your head a million miles an hour, fleeting words and images profound in a single moment of time and space, and than they disappear, sometimes never to be seen again. It's metaphysical.

It is our need for a contrast, that solid, unchanging anchor within such temporary moments, that drives us to seek that ultimate romantic fantasy--our soul mate. Think about it. No one ever says, "I wanna be with this person until something changes." No. No. It's always about forever. It is supposed to be never ending.

For the other 99.2 % of us lonely souls who are unlucky enough not to find perfection--well-- there's always solace in that other emotionally comforting institution known as friendship. Sometimes this emotional connection is all you need. And well, sometimes it isn't.

But here I go again, placing my life into this nice, neat and completely rational context, like I'm writing a thesis for some college class that won't ever help me in the real world. If only it were as easy as scoring A. Enough with all this existential bullshit.!

If only... emotion was so easy to rationalize. Maybe my life would be better if I didn't feel the need to analyze.

Who am I kidding?

I screamed. Not one of those frightened gasps for air that happens when you are startled by something you weren't expecting. This was the scream of complete terror and confusion. This was the scream of a man whose life had been drastically altered by words. Words, can you believe that?

Funny how words--the mere act of speaking--can change everything. Thoughts and feelings have never really changed a damn thing. Once they become words, once they are OUT THERE, they become dangerous.

But analysis aside, I screamed. I screamed long and loud like a guy who just lost a valued limb or better yet a guy who has just learned he has got less than three months to live. At least, this is what I wanted to do. But I didn't scream. I didn't react. I didn't even blink. I just... I just sat. I sat there staring at her mouth as the rushed words escaped her lips.

"I think I'm in love with Jack."

And there it was. It was OUT THERE.

"God, what a relief. Like this weight," she didn't complete her sentence, just motioned wildly with her arms, they way she had always done. She laughed nervously, that soft giggle I had made fun of countless times prior to this moment. "I'm just so confused. This thing has been eating me alive since I first felt..." she paused to collect her thoughts. She always chose her words carefully. "...something."

Something. Love has inspired the most amazing poetry, the most vivid paintings, and the most complex songs yet, 'something' is probably the best description anyone can give.

She turned her body around in her seat, her knees touching the armrest between us. "...I just don't want this ... to change... anything."

This changes everything.

I think I'm in love with Jack. It changes everything no matter how you slice it. And now it's going to eat me alive too.

Great.

The voice inside my head, the one that makes me feel guilty for not giving my spare change to a homeless man and the one that warns me to cut back on my spending, whispered a question. The voice only grew deeper and louder as our conversation on that fight between Boston and New York weaved it's way through those dicey issue brought about by falling in love with your best friend.

Once the plane landed at LaGuardia, the voice boomed, "It's over, isn't it?"

Bang. My life changed.

Well, more like a whimper.

Jack and Julia. My two best friends in the entire world, my surrogate family, my.... friends were... in love. A million questions ran through my head.

And than, there was that question that surfaced amid the others racing through my head at light speed, the one I never thought would.

"It's over, isn't it?" the voice continued to taunt. Hearing voice is never a good thing.

If this is how it ended, I wondered where it began. Yes, I have this compulsive need for order--linear, logical and otherwise. And all good stories deserve a beginning, right?

"Jackson Manning."

"Ah, Jack."

"Julia Moses."

"Here."

"Jason Mulvey."

"Here."

Thrilling isn't it. I'm sure you're all a-tingle. I didn't say this would be the most exciting story in the world, it's just a little story of me. And this is where this particular tale begins, with a lanky, shabby-looking T.A. reading our names off the register in freshman required Writing Workshop I. That was six years ago. Before, we had bonded. Before, we had spoken. Before attachments we formed. Before the soap opera had it's characters. Before life got interesting.

Three names. Three lives. Infinite possibilities. If this were a movie, this would be the tag line. It would have to be directed by Cameron Crowe though and include a song by Peter Gabriel.

Jack and Julia, the early years, was a cross between watching a car wreak and a three ring circus; entertaining, fun, exciting and frightening all at once.

Three weeks into the semester, Jack made the first move.

"I have a feeling we'll be really close friends."

Julia made her first emasculation.

"Is that feeling coming from three feet above your family jewels or does all your brain activity take place between your legs? Just wanna know before we get to be close friends."

And I, as always, just played peacemaker.

"Guys, guys, guys. Walter Percy, remember. The object of our discussion group."

We never did get to discuss Walter Percy. Instead in the forty minutes of class time allotted for lengthy, meaningful discussion, we talked about our CD collections, the stupidity of network sitcoms, and our respective plans for world domination.

"How could you deny the amazingness of 'The Wall'? It has to be the best album ever recorded. Case closed." Jack always did have a flare for drama.

"Too experimental. Well not Laurie Anderson experimental, but too many things going besides the music. It should be about the fucking music! The Cranberries. U2. Nirvana. Those are bands."

"Songs in the Key of Life? Stevie Wonder. Perfect as you can get." Once again, another argument averted by my warped middle ground.

"...my life..." Julia's head bopped back onto the airplane seat. "My life hasn't quite worked out the way I planned." She breathed hard through her nose. The pilot announced over the PA system that we would be landing at LaGuardia in less than twenty minutes. "...I wonder if I could be screwing it up even more if we do act on the feelings we're having."

Must I hear about your feelings, I whined to myself. I wanted to be the supportive friend who listens intently and dispenses advise unabashedly, but... it's Julia and Jack for god sakes. I find my voice after a few moments of silence. "I can't say that didn't see this coming." Like an on-coming train. "...I've seen the way you guys are with each other nowadays. I see that subtle change in the dynamic of your relationship." The fact that you call Jack more than you call me kinda gave it away. "I see that trust and intimacy building, you know." On a foundation that's about to give way. Okay, I have to stop it. Julia needs me. Julia nodded, her blond hair falling into her eyes. "Maybe 'cause I know you guys so well..."

"Are you really okay with this, Jason? You just seem so calm about it."

The question.

I'd rather put a loaded gun to my head and pull the trigger than answer this question with any ounce of honesty.

The answer.

"I am. I am. I'm just happy...you've found someone you wanna open up to. I know this is a big step for you."

The big FAT lie.

Julia has intimacy issues. We have discussed this at length. During our first serious discussion with each other, Julia revealed to me how deeply her parents divorce scarred her.

"I was seven. My dad, my biological dad that is, just left one day. I came home from school and all his stuff was gone. The car, his work boots, his razor, everything that WAS my father just disappeared." Julia stopped and sipped her large latte. "My mom was lucky though. She found this great guy, Eddie, when I was about thirteen. He's been there for me every time I need him. I consider him my dad now." She paused, gathering her thoughts, the way I grew accustomed to expect. "But, for years, I thought it was something I did, you know, that drove my father away. Like if I had only cleaned up all my toys when he told me to or if I ate all my vegetables, he'd still be in my life. I don't know, sometimes I still feel like that... you know." She sighed heavily. "I know it sounds silly..."

"It's isn't. I know."

And I did. My mother left me when I was nine. One hot August day, she dropped me off at my aunt's house in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina saying she couldn't take care of me anymore. I know.

For years, I wondered if I'd ever trust a woman.

For years, Julia wondered if she could ever learn to trust a man.

She ended up trusting Jack.

The airplane touched down with a large bump. Julia held on to my arm, her head on my shoulder, her eyes closed, "God, you are such a good friend."

Apparently, not good enough.

And this is where my life got complicated. This is the moment my real life began.