The fading Muse

I love! And I loved so many times so many different people: tall, short, skinny, chubby, beautiful and "drop-dead" gorgeous. But over and over again I always fall inlove with the muse, the inspiration, the admiration! I feel attracted by the woman, get to know the person and fall in love with the muse. Yes, the muse, the product of my imagination, a perfect, immaculate conception of a human being that never existed.

Well, either that or I do fall in love with real people and they just change in a way that I no longer recognize them. Of course people change, we all do... but why every woman I always loved has to change in a way that turns them unrecognizable???
And I'm always full of hope, full of expectations that it's just a phase, just a temporary state of insanity and coldness, I always hope one day the love will be back, the person will be the muse and life will be full of happiness and smiles...
Am I a fool? Is it time for me to change?
No, I'm a poet, and I will always have my muses, and if all the women I've met refused to be such... I guess I'll just keep trying. Keep searching for the Muse until I find it... or until time runs out!