An old love song is playing on my radio,
I’m humming along in the corner, focused only on it.
The words, the heartbreak, and pain ring true
as if someone were singing my thoughts.
I’m so engaged by the song I hardly notice the darkening sky.
Night is coming upon me now, the giant full moon peeking out of the clouds
shining softly on me as if to rest a hand on my shoulder.
I wonder if I wear my pain so visibly that anyone can see.
My world is so full, with but one gaping wound to fill.
Everywhere I look I’m hit with reality that maybe it just won’t be.
Maybe what we dream for ourselves isn’t what God wishes it to be.
How else can I explain an endless painful quest?
I’m taunted and teased by options I dare not choose.
The perfect man may be closer than I realize, but he’s not mine to lose.