I have many Ones. I have the One who shares my bed and a love of David Sedaris, Dane Cook, and chocolate chip cookies. I have the One who birthed me and who lets me do my laundry at her home even now that I'm technically a self-sufficient grown up. I have the One who shares at least half of my genes (but with better legs) who understands me better than anyone. I have the One who is my father and who therefore, for oedipal reasons, cannot be referred to as the One (but he's pretty great).
And then there are my friends, my army of Ones, each luminous in his or her own way and coveted to extents they cannot possibly grasp (or, perhaps, do not want to know).
I hope that you know who you are, but in case you don't, here you are: