I’ve seen you angry. I’ve seen you sad. I’ve seen you in all your moods. I’ve seen you suppress a smile, looking at my wound up face. At every moment, the bliss of our togetherness threatens to sweep us off our feet, to wash us away towards a silent, star filled ocean space. But we cling to the shores on either side, making violent faces at each other, as though it could stem the rising tide of our passion. It’s such a tenuous hold on what we call ‘me’ and ‘mine’. We would rather be wrenched away than let go, of our own free will, this useless claim to shifting sands. It takes a rather long while to get used to bliss, when we have lived for so long in pain. Why do we yell across this river, at each other, when we could be rolled along in bliss, whispering tenderness, into each others’ ears?