I know you now, amor, I can see you. Soon, maybe seconds, maybe years, but too soon, you will be gone. For we will leave this world. Even were we to go locked in embrace like the skeletal remains of the Verona lovers, like theirs, only our old bones would remain together. We all must die alone. We travel from this world to the next on our own.
Yet I know, deep in my heart that our separation is illusory. A trick played on the mind caught in worldly ideas of duality.
Still I am directed by this imperative, love as well and as compassionately as humanly possible. And be always ready to say your goodbyes. Such is the way of life. As we leave we also meet and both are just as sweet.