Many have tried to conquer the mountain of loving me, but with high elevations and rough weather conditions, even the most avid lover can not scale to the top. She is always turned away at the icy cold pass, better known as the door way to my heart. The sweetest cries of “let me in, let me love you”, whistle thru my canyons only to fall on the peaks and valleys of my ego, my fear, my belief that this thing called “being in love” does not really exist.