Confessions of a screwed up middle-aged man: Sharing

Days begin and then end. The time in this temporary life ticks by not in the motion of the second hand clicking into to its momentary position and then on to the next one, but time of a day clicking into its position and then into the next one.
Days fly by and there is no sharing them. To be able to say I watch a ship that crosses the ocean slowly move down the river next to where I work. To not be able to share the moment the sunsets upon the Rockies, or rises above them depending on which side you are on at that particular moment is something I truly miss.
My mind is full of things that I only wish to share with one person. Not a friend or co-worker, but someone that has picked me as their equal, their partner. Someone that knows when you take a vow that says forever it does not mean within the lifetime that we live now, but the lifetime that we are promised that will last billions upon billions of years.
Deep down I have always pursued this. Even when I was a child, but now most of my time within this corrupted form has passed. Yet still I search for one person that will accept me for that mess that I am. For am I not only human? Am I not allowed to make mistakes?
I know she is out there. Have I met her before? Have I not met her yet?
I do not know the answers to these questions myself, yet I will still continue to seek her out.

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