Just One Problem

It's happen.

By God, it's finally happened.

That event.

That singular event that continues to define a human being as a human being for even decades after its occurrence.

I'm in love.

Head over heels.

When Harry Met Sally.

Brangelina.

Bennifer.

Whatever cliché does it for you.

Something like Neruda would crone over.

Akin to a soft melody by the King himself

Or perhaps the Brat Pack.

All the movies were true,

And the music accurate,

And the poetry mere tips of romantic icebergs.

I'm in love.

Migration passes through my stomach.

Butterflies are but pre-cursors to this.

A deep and unseen inside part awakes from two decades of perpetual slumber

The unknown stretches and groans,

Reaches out into unfamiliar territory,

Exploring the outside world.

Soaking.

Wondering.

Wandering.

Experiencing.

Being.

By God it happened,

I'm in love.

But I may have a problem,

Just one problem;

It seems relatively insignificant,

But I could see it causing

Issues?

I may be in love,

I may be head over heels,

I may the Harry and the Romeo and the Tristan and the Him and the Me,

But it's not with her.

Or her.

Or even her.

It's with her.

And her.

And her.

I love her.

The collective.

The beautiful.

The innumerable.

I'm in love

With every girl who smiles,

Who winks,

Who says a kind word,

Who offers wonderful conversation.

I'm in love.

With everyone.

Is that a problem?