i am constantly chasing love
or rather, the question of love

love is a question because it's never been something tangible to me
i've never held it in my hands
i was first approached with the question after an innocent 6 year old asked her father why mom didn't live with him anymore

"we just don't love each other like we did then" he'd say.
even then, she knew "love" had to be something important.

maybe i was pre destined to chase love, since i matured without loving myself
exposed to the harsh environment that is society, i wore no scarf or coat to fight the elements of self hatred

with every milestone, every minute mark, my heart grew bigger in anticipation
would love answer like the colorful pixels of a television set, dancing on my retinas?
or will it engage in a quiet, sneaky approach, like a tiger stalking its prey?

at first, hearing its reply sounded so satisfying
but the more i try to expedite love's response, the quieter it seems to become
i have many years to live, but no longer do i want to engage in this one sided conversation.
a question,
love will remain