Had I not noticed the gleaming spot of skin atop his head
I might have gone right on believing that he was, in fact, the love of my life.
Unfortunately though- as happens all too often,
I had mistaken him for another-
Lately I have been feeling as if there are no men my age.
I look at a man who from one angle seems agreeable, but then watch to my embarrassment
as he turns into something else entirely.
Are these transformations truly taking place?
Or am I merely doomed to forever find myself dissatisfied with anyone else?
Is there anyone else out there- or was there,
and will there forever be- only Him.
What do you do when it seems that the only man in existence is gone, quite probably for good.
Do you settle?
Or do you keep on scanning the crowds with dim hope that you have been wonderfully mistaken.
As it stands at this point, I must allow this feeble spirit to make its attempts
Lest I lose all hope of love.