The Importance Of Love At Love

At birth, everyone receives their ring. Some are already beating; Others take years to start. They hang on a chain that your parents keep until you 're old enough to take care of it yourself, and finally gets placed on your finger when you 've found the one whose heart matches the beat of the ring.

My mom kept my ring in her dresser, and sometimes, I would sneak into her room and slip it on my too-small fingers, pressing it into my skin to feel the thump-thump the best I could.

Mine began beating, according to my mom, when I was only a few months old. I think I 'm lucky. My best friend 's only started when she was seven. With such a large age gap, it could take them years to find each other, and maybe even longer to realize that they 're a

It stopped a few months later. I 've heard they can begin beating again, but his never did. He met his wife at a support meeting. I think they 're happy together, but I know they can 't feel each other 's hearts. I always wondered what would happen if his started beating again and hers didn 't.

Dating was always a strange thing. People wanted to date in high school, but falling in love with someone whose heartbeat didn 't match yours was a common problem. Some couples found out early, "testing" the relationship by taking their partners running, and seeing if their rings sped up. Others avoided it, keeping their rings on their chain, waiting for the relationship to work or fall apart on its own.

I found out relatively early. I was out with a boy, Mark, and I slipped the ring onto my middle finger while we watched a movie. When he reached for my hand, I felt his heartbeat quicken. When we glanced at each other and he giggled, it fluttered against my finger. And when he leaned in to kiss me, I could feel his pulse against my hands and in my fingers. From then on, the beating was my comfort, and I always knew he was waiting for

With an empty ring, I decided that helping others who had a family was the best way to make my life meaningful. I was surrounded by other men and women who had lost their beats and used the job to pull themselves out of their depression. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes they left within a few months. For me, ensuring as many rings continued beating as possible was my end goal.

I was usually the first to rush into a building to help those trapped inside. It didn 't please my chief, but other firefighters often praised what they thought was bravery. My chief ended up being right, of course.

This call was for an old funeral home that had been shut down years ago. The building was ancient by city standards, sitting on an unused plot of land in a bad neighborhood. I didn 't run in -- not even the homeless slept inside this rotting building -- but got closer than was safe. I took the main water hose and sprayed into the heart of the fire, while the men on the truck took on the flames licking at the windows.

I heard a cry from behind me and saw everyone staring up in horror. I glanced up in time to see the heavy metal roof ornamentation sag on top of the sodden, burnt wood before they toppled toward me on the