Seven years ago I was engaged. Not to my current husband but to a man whom I loved very much. Despite a very quick courtship, we were both certain that we wanted to be together forever. We didn't know how short our "forever" would be. On July 25, 2004 we were in a car accident. I walked away, he didn't. It took a lot of grief, a lot of tears, and a lot of anger before I finally realized that even though I had lost him, I was blessed to have ever had him in my life to begin with however short that time may have been. It's not often that you find someone in life that you connect with, that you want to spend time, who understands you and even when they don't understand you is willing to talk it out with you until they do. I was blessed enough to find this at a young age and although he's gone, not a day goes by that I don't think about him. When I met my husband, I thought there was no way he could possibly understand what I had been through nor did I think there was any way I would ever have the same kind of love with anyone else that I had had the first time around, and I was right. But I found a different kind of love, a different kind of commitment. Not many people are lucky enough to find true love once in their lives. I've been blessed with falling in love twice. No one will ever take Marcos' place. I loved him then and will continue to love him but that love has changed over time and I've learned that there is room in my heart for him and for my husband. I have been blessed with the gift of love twice and although the first time was short and ended painfully, I know that every thing, even the stuff that hurts so bad you think you'll never survive it, happens for a reason.