Love is a stream when you’re alone. at times it moves quickly, at times slowly, picking up sediment and carving it’s own path among the mountains and valleys of the world. occasionally a leaf will ride upon your current, it’s pure beauty contained in it’s need for you to allow the float to the next place of rest.

slowly, as time goes on, the world shapes itself accordingly and your water and others will mingle. if the waters mix well and fortune smiles upon your being, the stream becomes a river and life will flourish from where it was once impossible.

in other times, the water will meet obstacles it cannot surpass. it will fall from a great distance, hurting the life contained within; shattering that which cannot withstand the loss of the picturesque mountainside and the love of the course taken. what is strong will prevail, but the water will never be the same. it will undergo a transformation and over time the cycle will begin anew.

eventually, fate will have it that waters will settle and mingle, and great bodies of water will be formed. life will grow there, as will love. the time spent as one will create both deep and shallow expanses, some which too shallow will dry up, and some which become so deep will stand the eternal test of time.

love is a river that will find it’s own course. no matter the pain and joy of the courses ups and downs, the river must be allowed to flow.