because

But she doesn't love them to own them, to expect things from them, to keep them, to marry them, to sleep with them, live with them, become them, she loves them because of who they are without her. She loves them like a fly on the wall. She loves them as if they had never met her. She loves them knowing she may never see them again, never speak to them, hold them, kiss them, become their lover, best friend, confidante. She loves them in a manner much like the shore welcomes the tide, graciously, patiently, without question or reservation, respecting and admiring the cycles and timing of processes. She loves them authentically, deeply, in confidence. And she will likely love them even after they’ve chosen someone else because love is not a set of shoes to be filled in succession. She'll likely love them after they, or her, disappear and move on because love is not a location. And she'll likely be the one who is left loving them in the end, when all others have stopped, because love is water not stone. And she doesn't expect them to understand because love, like most things worthy, lies precariously between not-quite-logical and not-quite-absurd.