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There is pain in this world my child. Sometimes, your body is hurt. You feel nauseas tender and weak. Sometimes, your mind feels sick, you are not yourself and your thoughts goes places where they are discouraged to venture.
Worst of all is when your heart is hurt. When it is pierced by a lightning rod sent flying from the hand of some angry god. The jolts will make you spasm and weep. Finally you will grow numb and existence will feel a trifle thing. Of little importance.

Send me a thought when you are alone, direct your heart to that empty place where you had me stored. Recollect without diluting those drops of emotion that were once so lustrous and rich in the chalice of your heart. May haps that is not possible, to view what once was through the blurring of the time that’s past. We wonder together if it is possible to reconstruct an emotion that has fled. To look with honest eyes upon what was once felt as the imperative of existence.
What can you do then when the reason one once had for breathing now seems so shallow? The well from which once all meaning was drawn seems dry and unsatisfying. Perhaps it was an illusion that it so could have quenched your thirst?
Or is it that appetites change and grow larger with time? Maybe it is not a voluntary thing to grow bored with sipping of the same ambrosia that used to propel you. Tick tock. Time has passed. What was delicious has turned to ash.
Values and emotions are readily pierced by the passage of time. Nothing is ever excused from that.

What is a constant relationship? Can it be kept by two conscious observers constantly judging the value of their interaction? At one point the hatchet must fall, severing the connection or at least breaking a thread from the connecting wire.

Will that be, before the dirge chimes and the justification for feeling is reached?