Sometimes I Wonder

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever find love. I know it's a weird thing to say, but I love love, and I love everyone and everything in this world even though I know that they...they will never love me, not in the way that I love them at least. But maybe that's a good thing because I would hate for another person to feel the emptiness that I do; for them to be condemned to a life of fleeting laughter and self-loathing even though your heart aches because you cannot show the people you love just how much you love them. I would never want someone else to question whether their love is valid if they really do love everyone. I would never hope another would feel the torture of being happy for their best friend as they see them fall in love, only to question whether they themself will ever have someone to hold tight at night.

Sometimes I wonder if I will never find love if I am destined by some predetermined fate to be tortured and toyed with the idea of someone ever loving me so passionately that my toes curl up out of sheer bliss and happiness. I dream about stolen kisses, and interlocked fingers and blushing cheeks as I shy away from sweet nothings whispered into my ear. I long for someone to talk about everything with and even nothing. For a connection where even the silence between us is the best kind of silence. I crave a sense of belonging, a sense of comfort, of connection, of happiness.

Sometimes I wonder if love will ever find me because I'm starting to lose hope even though my life has practically just begun. And I'm too tired to even keep typing, and my back aches with the pain of pulled muscles, of overworked tissue, of stressed bones. Bones that are both young and old all in the same and they can never quite feel satisfied when they are stretched out in the morning. I am so tired, I am so done with being stuck in this daze... this delusion that I could ever be loved in such a way.

Sometimes I wonder if love will never find me, for I have already found love on the faces of friends and strangers... but they can never feel what I feel, for I am me and they... they are but another person for me to love and never be loved by. I can't help but throw my head back until it bangs against the wall and shut my eyes so tight it starts to make my brain ache, but at least this can distract me from the emptiness even just for a little while.