moencheese

Love is a mysterious thing; an undefinable, unquantifiable enigma, that could parade in plain sight and yet remain as elusive and unfathomable as the deepest of life’s unanswerable questions. Or at least, that’s how it felt to her. It seemed like all around her people were pairing off. Strangers reached out a hand and clasped one another, a connection made. Acquaintances altered their course, diverting so as to intercept and intermingle. The hugs of friends softened and slowed, feelings intensifying, intertwining limbs lingering tenderly… Yet she remained an island. She didn’t know what was wrong with her, if there