Love is grey, I think.

Grey like dusk and grey like dawn, and any time that could be confused as either a beginning or an ending. Often have I thought on love and come to a small truth, a morsel, but nothing that satisfies. I suspect love has many friends and accomplices. By the nature of the thing, it may find reason to accompany misery and happiness on their various errands. Errant, love is, and seeks out no one but comes upon many.

One cannot love and stay. If love calls, as I suspect it has, as I suspect it may again, I must be prepared to follow.

REI does not sell gear for this.

Naked and fearless, thou must proceed. Make haste, give chase, through sun and sand, over hill and dale.

Worry not for those left behind, those clothed and confused. In time, they will seek you out. Thy trail shall be easy to follow, what with most people remembering if they saw you bounding nude along.

Expect to sweat, expect to freeze. You will know hunger and thirst. Flesh may tear and bones may break. At these times, at all times, remember that you have endured such as this before, but never for a reason as good as this.

Become a blur on the horizon. Let your color run, fade, and leave you grey. You will no longer know where you end and love begins. The dualities of this world are left behind and there will be only you, loving, just as it always was.