Patience is a virtue, so we are told, but hearing that often gets old.
There is one area in particular in which I seem to have the most trouble. That is in the area of being deemed “loveable.”
Will, I ever find “the one”? Or is my heart’s fate to be continuously on the run?
Is my love worthwhile? Or is it estimated to be unworthy or vile?
Should I stop trying? Is that part of my personality dying?
I hope that this is not the case. Simply thinking about it makes my heart race.
It is something I want so badly. Something I wish could stop eluding me, and I often think of sadly.
I have been close, I feel, but in the end, the feelings fail to be one hundred percent real.
My relationships have always fallen short on some domain. I know it has typically been my fault, however, so for that, I cannot complain.
It still hurts, though, and at this point in my thinking, regret will always show.
Moving on, I know, is the answer. I feel like I am past that, though, and loneliness still looms like a cancer.
So it’s back to being patient… “Just wait,” they’ll say, as my heart grows more vacant.
“The right person will find you when you least expect it.” I had a hard time with that bit, but now I see it as a paradox and will wait; hopefully, love is never too late.
(Patience in Love is a poem by Justin Heupel) (Photo by Nick Fewings)