The Pain of Love

When I was young, love was breath and heartbeat-- and fear of Mama, offset by the comfort of my lovely Nana. And my father-- where was he? Then I entered manhood- fierce and stark, knowing women before I knew them. My lust for their bodies kept my love at bay-- like a cowed dog it whimpered, only longing to be petted. I was not kind but not cruel, eagerly entering their bodies while ignoring, nay, fearing their loving souls. Then one spring day the hollow man I had become cracked open, and my unknown, unseen soul spilled out into that river: its dark fierce waters of despair driving it towards that ocean of utter blackness. Something saved me, returned first my body, then my mind to the world, to this world. The One I had forgotten, ignored, showed mercy, showed me my real being, a soul without beginning, without ending--truly made in His image.