I once again feel lonely, lonely in the way that I want someone to go to whenever I feel the need to, someone to hold, someone to comfort, someone to care for.

I hate it. I hate having it influence my decisions, my choices, my way of life. It wins though. It beats me, makes me concede, and then turns me into it's bitch.

I fear the actions it would decide for me. I'm afraid of the consequences. What if I should believe that I desired something, only to realize that I wanted it only because it was the most immediate response to my needs and wants? That would be selfish. That is definately not in my definition of love.

It has always though, felt so close with every passing prospect. That one person who might have been the one always seemed so at the time. But, it hasn't happened yet. So I move on, always looking, knowing that I can't stay and forever try to convince the obsessed to forget their ways and look to new horizons. I have tried before though and it has never worked out. So i give up, hoping that one day they might look back and see what they missed, realize they were blinded by their passion to see what was there before them. One day... One day...

When it's too late.