What is love if not completion?
This hand is not a hand, but half a hand. These ideas only half complete. This heart, half a heart.
Halfness feels like fullness until the day that it encounters the feeling of being full, or as we call it, being in love. And then nothing feels the same again.
Your halfness being now exposed, you realize that life has been breathed with just half a breath.
You exhale and then it’s gone and every breath thereafter feels a little short, like there’s an elephant sitting on your chest.
You asked once, How do you know?
I think I replied, You just know it when you feel it (Sort of like how the Supreme Court defines pornography).
My answer now is that I feel incomplete…on Christmas of all days.
To all, may your days be full, especially today.