Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.
I never felt true love until I was with you,
I never felt true sadness until you left me.
When we broke up I think you took half of my heart with you,
You took the half I need the most..,
Because the half you left is the half that only loves you. .
