We have each other, at least. Even though in many other lifetimes we lived apart; we finally understand now what it means to be together. Our failure to touch, to belong to each other has cost us dearly in the past. Now it's all we know. But soon it won't matter anymore. Everyone is gone eventually, and we will be alone again. We are born apart, driftwood on the banks of an endless dark ocean. And we will be carried away by the swell soon enough. But in between, even if in a single day of living, dancing in a strip of sunlight, we can find what we've been missing. The love that makes us whole. The imminence. Not everyone finds their other. This pattern is ours.
