The Wait.

Love. Is it him whom love is flowing thru that I love? Or is it love itself? It must be both. There is nothing quite like that feeling of this force of nature called Love when it radiates out from another being and we receive it. But when it is matched, then in an exact same moment, by our own cosmic release of this untouchable, unexplainable force toward another, the collision of the unseen is experienced; it is worth every other moment of waiting for it. I tell myself this, and yet it is the waiting that has caused me so much grief.