There is only one. A single great love.
A unique passion we can’t get over, the one that climbs up, treads its way through our dreams, stays there and plays and replays like a reel. It never lets go.
For most people, overtime, it becomes a touchstone, a catalyst, a camphor, a smell, a beam of light, a stack of books, the shape of a goblet, the texture of a fabric.
In sleep drenched moments it gives no relief, no comfort.
It envelops you, tires you, fights you.
Aah, to have that one, single, great love.