Love is Different

Disaffected. No, it goes beyond that.
There was a time when I held out hope that I might find one person somewhere who would be a great match; who would despite all my many faults, past, present and future, accept me for who I am, understand me, even love me. I don't remember when it was that I shelved the hope that such a person existed for me. But I now find myself questioning whether such a person exists even for anyone.
No matter where I go, broken and hurting marriages fill my landscape. One here who cheats and doesn't know why; one there who sees it crumbling and doesn't care; or one lining up for second helpings before the first is even finished. It makes me furious and sorrowful that Satan can take something so pure and good and twist it into something terrible. Close my eyes, and they're all still there on the back of my eyelids and within my broken heart. They speak a silent yet resounding answer to the age-old question; yes it is better to never have loved at all.
After all, who would knowingly choose the path of Hosea?
But what do I know of love? All I know is that it's different than you'd think.

Then when I think of the one who doesn't exist, the one true companion, I realize that it's Someone who does exists and I've already met. And I didn't have to fight to win the love that I've never deserved. A love more rewarding than any that could come from another selfish person such as myself.