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The Kind Of Love That Never Dies

Updated on October 23, 2009

To be love struck!

What a thrill.

To care so much that self ceases to matter.

To lose yourself in the other.

To adore being a part of their world.

To clasp them to your heart

and be touched by the softness and magic of love.

To awaken full of excitement and tender thoughts

as you gaze at your Beloved’s image in your mind.

Their image is as real as their physical presence.

For in your heart you are no longer two, but one.
To know and cherish such love was my joy.

A special magical love between man and woman

which, although was as never as physical as I desired,

was no less tangible, no less real.

I had had a couple other girlfriends.

Thought there were moments when Love was nigh.

But not until she came into my world did I know

the kind of love that can never die.

A love stronger than fear, suffering

and the sorrows of the heart.

A love which effaces misunderstandings

and moods of selfishness.

Ever plentiful in forgiveness and playfulness.

Yes, she was very playful!

She loved her sporty little blue Capri.

It was this big grown up girl’s favorite toy.

Twinkling, glowing eyes that winked at me

every time she speeded, making my heart miss a few beats.

But she would always slow down when I asked her to.

To touch her soft warm hands set my passions afire.

Sadly she never gave me her all.

This only made me yearn for her even more.

She loved me as best as she could.

Gave me so much that I did need.

Gave me abundant affection and sensuality.

Sometimes I went to movies she wanted

to see just to be next to her.

Sometimes I would scoot my body close to her,

and place my hand beside hers.

It was dark.

I am surprised that people could not see the sparks

that flew from her to me.

I know she felt the sparks too.
Sometimes she left her hand next to mine for a time

before switching her body position.

There were unspoken joys I never tried to name.

Subdued sighs and gasps when I massaged her.

I managed.

She loved me in so many other ways.

She was there for me.

She laughed and cried with me.

She held me when I yearned to understand God.

She listened to me when I needed to talk long,

when I needed to be heard.

Time took her away after four years.

But I will never lack love.

Anytime I feel sad I draw upon our memories,

and in those memories I find the strength to go on.


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