Like an ambush, I suspect love will catch me unawares one of these days. There is often a price to be paid for being too vigilant, too alert, too insusceptible to the unexpected. For me, I very much think that price has been loneliness. I am not sure why this has been so difficult. It’s late, and I am having trouble formulating my thoughts, opening my mind to the truth. It is also past time for the ambush of love upon my fearful heart. It seems like I will never stop looking for a way around it, but there’s no way around an ambush. I hope I make it through the folds of the fields of flowers; I hope when love strikes, the bugs kiss well.