I used to believe that love had one name.

That there was one person you could love that way, and if you lost them, you were done. That even if you meet others, a part of you would always be waiting for the one you had already chosen.

Then love came around the second time, and then I realized that maybe I was wrong?
I loved again in a way that taught me...

That love was bigger than a person...
It does not run out when people walk away.
And that the significance of its death is like that of a seed, it dies to grow, to multiply.

And maybe in the end, THE ONE is simply whoever comes around and when given the chance, chooses to stay, against all odds.

~Marie.