Det bor en längtan i mig efter att ha någon att älska. Någon att överösa med all den kärlek jag håller inom mig, som vill älska mig tillbaka. Någon att hålla i handen, som pussar mig på pannan och som älskar mig. Trots mig.
Och som jag kan dedikera denna vackra text ur "Camelot" till:

IF EVER I WOULD LEAVE YOU

If ever I would leave you

It wouldn't be in summer.

Seeing you in summer

I never would go.

Your hair streaked with sun-light,

Your lips red as flame,

Your face witha lustre that puts gold to shame!

But if I'd ever leave you,

It couldn't be in autumn.

How I'd leave in autumn I never will know.

I've seen how you sparkle

When fall nips the air.

I know you in autumn

And I must be there.

And could I leave you running merrily through the snow?

Or on a wintry evening when you catch the fire's glow?

If ever I would leave you,

How could it be in spring-time?

Knowing how in spring I'm bewitched by you so?

Oh, no! not in spring-time!

Summer, winter or fall!

No, never could I leave you at all!