You left. Then came back to explain. That was not you, you said. And I wondered. Which one wasn't you? The guy who left or the one who came back? Was it you when you said you loved me, or was it you when you said you couldn't do this anymore?
Do you honestly think that you are the only person who changes? I change too. Even my love for you changes. Everyday I love you more or less. Sometimes the character of my love deepens. Other times, I judge it by the way you hold your fork in formal dinners or by the way you smell those times you're too lazy to get out of bed. Other times, I am an avenging force, eyes blazing, sword in hand, furious at your enemies. Sometimes you drive me out of the house outrunning the hellhounds.
I change with the character of my love, but I love and I stay. I stay to love you, in the form my love takes that day.