Have you ever wondered if there’s something quite wrong with you?
Friends marry, buy a home, have kids;
Why am I still here?
Alone.
It’s not that I haven’t loved.
But it’s always in episodes.
Brief glimpses of one story,
Enduring epics of the next.
High drama,
Mundane predictability.
Unquenchable, burning desire or
Quiet understanding.
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Have you never wondered if love might be at its best
In episodes?
Like fruit,
Ripe in the glory of its season
But eventually fading.
Only the seed remaining, containing
The key to more?
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