I don’t actually really know what it is I want. This applies not only to love, but possibly to life as well. I’ve never been one of those people that knows what it is they want to be. I know what i’m doing now isn’t it, but that’s as far as I’ve got.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t become clearer with age either. You’d think, after nearly 40 years of contemplating, that it would, but nope, still clutching at straws, in a floundering sort of way.

And love? with love I feel I’m only just starting to chip away at its hulking glacier. I’m learning how to get a foothold at least, but honestly, I know once I climb to the top, all I’ll see is just how vast and uncharted it actually is.

When I look at it like this, I realise there’s no hope of ever conquering love, so to speak, the size and scope is too vast,  and that all we can ever do is claim our victories when we can, and bask in them for however long they shine, and then move on before the ever encroaching glacier engulfs us, and we get frozen in a moment that was.

Maybe none of us know what we really want, maybe we’re all just running, trying to keep from being frozen and sharing the warmth of each other to keep loves glacier at bay.

Stupid glacier. Stupid, (wonderful, glorious, awe inspiring) glacier.

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