What a strange and heart-breaking thing to see a sentiment I sympathize with so wholly. Then again, I've never known the distinctive agony of having had someone and feeling them gone from me, trying to keep the idea about me when everything about it has obviously passed. And your friend, how could she know you? If you are each the other's moon then neither one can see the other's far side. Locked in a homemade glass prison... the phrase gilded cage comes to mind. And why not destroy these things, lift your chains and lash out at the house that constricts you? I'm reminded of a quote: "the line that separates love and hate cuts through the heart of every man; and who would destroy a piece of his own heart?" Not claiming that there is hate involved so much as I fear that your cage is built of your heart. How undesirable to fragment and attempt to rebuild something so precious and fragile. I think I understand your plight, but I can't claim to know. I don't know you. I know how to suffer as you seem to, but that's no consolation and it certainly isn't enough to lend anything of meaning to your plight. And when we try to weave our ways into the hearts of others, as mysterious strangers, it's as though we're freezing in outer space, looking for fire. To steal it, as Prometheus did, but not to give to the people; who could be so selfless? Really, when two people try to share their subjectivity it's an energy exchange; we hope for something better to result from the exertion, a synergistic result. I believe in synergy, but I have only an idea of it. To dream of something objective... the joy of human folly.
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