There's nothing more I can do.
I wait. I seek. I pray. I dream.
And somehow, love evades me, still.
I crawl into bed at night with
a feeling no one should feel:
it's an affable loneliness that
steadily eats away at my hope.
I tell myself: "Get used to this,
This might be the rest of your life"
but I keep on
waiting, seeking, praying, dreaming,
optimistic that one day
it will be love who is lying
beneath these covers instead.
