A fickle yet adored fantasy
universally proclaimed lovingly by the same name
stands with much difference for each
for each has a unique lover
whose uniqueness cannot be challenged
nor compared
nor estimated

Though are we always to meet our fantasied beloved?
At the right moment?
Ideally?

Love is strange
an entity yearned for for ages
yet terrifying to own when the time for it comes
for we are afraid
of our beloved in our fantasies
to be marred by the realism we allow ourselves to indulge

Picking petals from a flower
‘To love?’
‘To not love?’
Promises nothing short of eternity of torment
So drop that flower
And take a deep breath
Look to the offerer of love in the eyes
And say ‘I do,’
Hope that they will love you
like no one has ever done so