Grrrouffff7

To start with
and not finish.

Must be a dream!

And yet I carry on
with life like usual.

Normal is boring.

Boring because every day
is a routine,

without you.

I work, I sleep,
I play, I dream...

...about you.

And yet this life goes on,
unassuming and dreary.

For to be alone is like that.

Nevertheless,
I carry on.

Actually, we do!

But mirth
has a strange way...

...of turning into joy.

Joy that isn't as fleeting
or as giddy,

as happiness is.

And for that I am thankful.
Who would want to lead a joyless life?

Nobody would or should.

For even when I am alone,
by myself and dreaming...

...I still do everything I do, with you.

In my mind,
the distances have melted.

The paths have converged.

And although reality separates us,
for now.

I take joy in the knowledge...

that all is Maya,
all is an illusion.

Except us.