Together in Separation

Hey you.  Yes you.  I don't want the abstractions of relationship.  I want your heart.

I sat in the bistro listening to the french music, sipping the smooth red wine and had a most delicious thought. My heartache, my suffering stirred in me such emotion, such passion, such a desire to communicate all that I longed for and may never possess.  And that, that made me like every great, every tragic artist, composer, author, musician.  Yes, with all self indulgence, with every pretension, I could expose the fragile state of my heart into the passion of art.
The pain that did not consume but was overcome was the pain that transformed into inspiration.
Or could at least attempt to do so.  And an attempt was far more inviting than the acceptance of the end of something beautiful.
And I smiled as I realized that my pain, too, would transform.  It must.  It already was.  And while I may never have him in entirety, I possessed his spirit, I hid in his thoughts and his eyes, those loving, nervous eyes, that poured over every passionate word.
And in that connection, in that practice, we always remained, entwined, separately together.