Suppose that all of history, the entire human story, is one gigantic love story. We all play a leading role. We act out our unstoppable impulse to manifest love, giving it shape and action. Earth is a fabulous stage. Assistants from other dimensions rush to help us, so expertise and possibilities are endless. Assume we are God’s babies. Therefore, we cannot be denied. It works like this: As beautiful little humans, we create wild and delicious desires. The Universe answers with gifts and relationships. Delighted by this interplay, we do it again.If this is true, then love stories define us. Love stories “R” us. The expression of love is the reason for our existence. Could that be why we are hooked on stories that stretch our hearts? Then what about the dying part? When one precious individual leaves how do we keep the love alive?