Love is like people.
All different, all beautiful,
All matter.
To you, another love inexistent,
To them it is everything.
So the next time you see a stranger,
Ask yourself,
I wonder who is  lucky to love them and be loved by them.

And that unknowing, that question we'll never know the answer to, well that's beautiful. The knowing that there is enough love out there for anyone, even a stranger.