I know you are not gone, but you are not here either. I continuously sit at my computer, hoping you will come through my fingers and face me from the screen. It’s like you have shrunk down to a tiny size and are now hiding in the fabrics of my mind-peeking around the corner the way a toddler does when they are up to no good. I am worried because there are so many things that need to be shared-if you are gone too long I won’t be able to manage them all-not alone.
They will disappear.
I will forget.
You will forget.
You have already forgotten.
I should go on and focus on other things that need to be shared, with other people and other places….but I can’t. They don’t seem as interesting or as fun as ours. We have such a rich, influential story-it would be a shame not to cherish it….
But when is it cherishing and when is it fantasizing?
How do I keep my feet on the ground-living in the Now, if I keep reaching up to clouds that are drifting by above me traveling to the Great Beyond?
If I idolize our Past, how will I appreciate my Now?
Maybe you should stay hidden.
My heart fractures at the very thought, but you are more than a muse and all it takes isa mere ripple of your existence and you grow to incredible proportions; great for my history-bad for my now.
So why haven’t I put out the fire that burns for you? 
Louise Michaels 