Loftyowl, 40

for connection and chemistry... I thought things would be very different. I painted a world in my head of excitement, of passion, of ----. But more often now, I seem to survive on the memories of such times alone. There is a real relationship there, a love that trumps all known emotions. But words go unspoken, desires get pushed aside. Dreams replaced with duty, ambitions with responsibility. Where have the butterflies gone?

Even now, as I write to some faceless representation of my secret desires, I feel more spark than I've felt in years. I want the opportunity for more.