questioning love

Sitting in the lobby...nervous mind racing...hypersensitive....the buzz of a ballast failing in fluorescent light fixture, clickity clack of stilettos on the foyer's polished marble floor, swoosh of forced air through the ventilation system, passing cars in street, and twined sounds of twaddle, music, and laughter emanating from the lounge all comprise the current aural hum flowing from life's eternal tap. Anxiety seemingly shifts the temporal dimension and thickens air with a weighty constriction, like sitting in a lava lamp just warming up. Eyes lower to glance at a wristwatch and then torpidly look back up and out the window...is that her?

A revolving door, that symbolically mocks modern romance, sluggishly spins into action.

Even through the distortion of the multi-faceted angles of laggardly spinning glass, she can be recognized as "the one" waited for. The door seems to be spinning slower and slower with lingered anticipation. The sounds of the surrounding life, now amounts to a nothing more than a faint echo at the end of a long tunnel, as the stream of sand through the hourglass now seems to be falling only grain by grain.

Finally exiting the turnstile portal, after a month of various communications there she stands.

Returning from the time distorted abstraction with an exalted explosion of the senses; you embrace reality, with the magical first moment's memory safely ensconced in the minds eye.

Through distant travels of infinite days and nights spent searching, you have found the one and only that is leaving you; continually beguiled through enchanting mannerisms, entranced with witty and compassionate banter, and bewitched by a chemistry so mythical that you question thaumaturgic provenance......what happens next?

Will it be a pristine sunset....just an unassailable glimpse into the beauty life can hold, destined to fade all too quickly, leaving us keenly aware that the future is better left to be expected bereft of continued amorous expectations? Carpe Diem?

Or is it an waterfall....starting with a distant roar inspiring the first unexpected tremors of the heart, moving closer, building in intensity, now stunning and unstoppable in nature, thwarting all obstacles in its path, flowing tirelessly, to remain a visible testament that which brings joy for all to beheld.

Is admiration precious simply because of self worth, and that the erotic impulse is sweet to fulfill? At what level is it possible to conclude, with a muddled realization, that these perceptions could be the beginnings of genuine love?