More than two, less than four...just three simple words bring the world crashing to the ground. "I love you", she said, and afterward nothing was the same. "I love you", he said, and since then the fire in his chest has continued to grow. "I love you", was all that they ever had but it was never enough to carry them along. It should be a blossoming flower, love, colorful and fragrant like a summer rose. But as the days begin to shorten, and the evening shadows fall less on light and more on the darkness, love wains and struggles for life.
I know what it feels like to love. I love the woman I married like no other human being on earth. I love my child as to love life itself. And the baby...ahh, the eyes of that grand and joyous being make me realize that love is a true and wondrous thing. But I have begun to see through all these thinly veiled layers that cover my mind and am realizing my allowance of love may be at its end. I don't think it's unreasonable to believe we only get "so much" love in our lifetime. That the number of people who will wander in and out of our love is finite is a simpler explanation for loneliness than any alternative. So I am embracing it and trying to figure out how to cope. Like a man on his death bed I can say, "I have loved a good life." I don't like it, mind you. I want to dream and hope eternal for something much more romantic than this. -JF
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