Love, my Love, he’s still out there.

I can still feel, my Love, I can still feel. Those tears I just shed are proof that this heart of mine is still capable of loving. These past days I’ve been noticing how I was repeatedly telling myself that I’m exhausted. It’s as if every fiber of my beating heart is but a pulp of dry straw, and at any moment, will snap into powdery bits. Exhausted to the point of giving up on this quest for love.

Standing on the verge of hopelessness, that abyss not unfamiliar to a lot of people like us, I remind myself, Love, my Love, she’s still out there.

And suddenly, I thought, perhaps you, my Love, are exhausted too. Exhausted because for sure, for some time, you’ve also been looking for me. For sure, you are also getting impatient as the wait gets longer, and lonelier. Perhaps, you too, are standing on the same verge of hopelessness, worn out, contemplating on jumping over to that dark, damp abyss of jadedness.

No my Love, don’t. I am here. We just haven’t met yet. Or, maybe we have, but that we haven’t realized the Grand Destiny we’re meant to live, together, as life partners. But once we do, once you recognize it’s me, once I recognize it’s you, my Love, I shall lay your head on my lap. Tell you, before anything else, to rest and regain your strength. Recharge, and be at your very best. Because our journey together will be long, arduous, maybe even more exhausting, yet because I know we’re traveling together, it shall be, I promise to make it, well worth every little f*ckin’ waiting moment we spent looking for each other.