She had been asked the question a number of times and could never give a direct answer: no one would ever understand. So instead of giving a name, she would describe him and let them come to their own conclusion.
"Gentle muscles and steady hands" she would say.
The majority would say "Oh it must be Peeta" in their Seam dialect, "he was with her through the hardest time of her life." Others would say "No no no, it must be Gale, they're so alike. Soul mates!" She would neither agree nor disagree, for they could never comprehend.
"I breathe him," she would say, "He surrounds me, bringing me peace".
And again, they would jump to their conclusions and say "oh Peeta is such a nice boy, he's exactly what she needs." And others would say "Gale gives her everything: he lets her be herself."
And she is frustrated because they don't understand. It is not Gale and it is not Peeta who makes her feel complete.
It's the smell of leather from her old hunting boots. It's the smell of the trees in mid-Autumn after a downpour of rain. It's the feeling of hunger in her stomach from lack of food and knowing, simply knowing that she is going to feed herself, is able to.
That is her one true love. And she will pick a boy and say she is happy and she is in love, but it will never match the power of her own independence.
Nothing is equal to freedom.