Waiting for Godot in Life After 60

Sometimes I feel like Samuel Beckett wrote my story of waiting on love when he wrote Waiting for Godot. I’ve been waiting for a long time, (well, long to me) and love still hasn’t shown up.) I have encountered some other characters. (Some were real characters) Maybe it’s been so long I need to give up and resolve to live the rest of my life alone. But I hate that idea.
Perhaps love as I knew it at 21 doesn’t exist at 61. Maybe it never existed. But to live without the hope of ever finding love is unbearable. Instead of my kingdom for a horse, I would give all I have for love. Guess I am still waiting for Godot to show up and bring me love.