Listen, darling, suppose I left you and went far, far away... so far that even if you searched the whole world over, you'd never find me again.
Suppose I became a star so distant you could never touch me; became so utterly separated that you could never find me at all.
Would it hurt you just a little?
I mean, when your favorite mug breaks, when your pet cat dies, when you lose badly in the stock market, or when that orchid you've been tenderly nurturing on the balcony withers away—would you feel exactly that much pain? Or would it hurt so much more that you couldn't even breathe properly?
Tell me, would you remember my playful teasing more, or my sulking? Would my tears haunt you more, or my laughter?
If I vanished, where would you search for me—in the sky? In the wind? In light? Or in darkness?
Or... or in the fingers of your right hand?
Listen, would you suddenly burst into tears in the middle of the night? Would the person beside you wake up startled and frightened, asking, "What's wrong with you!" And would you try to hide it, saying, "No, no, it's nothing, just a bad dream!"
The next moment you'd remember—I wasn't a nightmare, I was the person from your golden dreams.
But you see, you'd never be able to tell anyone about me. Ha ha ha
The one you'd live with—you'd have to keep hidden in your heart forever! How strange is that, darling?