When things are good, an emptiness opens up, as if a void within me. And I remember the old urge, to fill it, but I do not follow that urge. You have shown me not to. So I wait, knowing you will show me how to fill it. It always takes a certain amount of time, or I go about seeing the world, doing this and that, holding the new emptiness.
So, when I say that my life is mine, I mean it only politically. I say it is mine more in a manner of speaking, when nothing could be clearer to me than to know that my life is yours to do with as you please. I say this as a fact of knowing, such as if I were to acknowledge my friends, or the passing of the seasons.
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Thank you