To create, to experience; that is the purpose, the meaning of life.

And when I find you, the heavens will open, the stars will shine brighter, the days will be longer and this world will make sense. We will be home.
Happiness is fleeting but not with you, I’m not ready, but damn I’m close.

“Get lost” she said, with disdain dripping from her all too perfect lips; emboldened by thoughts of his loneliness and the crushing emptiness she envisioned it to be accompanied by.

Yet he smiled in response. A demur, sad little smile.

One that shook her to her core.

For there was weight in his eyes, not that of burden or pain, but of knowledge, and like his smile, his gaze was unwavering and assured.

He paused briefly before replying, recognizing the shift of her person and watching her mind reel at his quiet, grounded confidence, unsettled.

“I plan too”. He in responded in muted tones, turning as he did to leave.

For you see, to be lost is a treasure; sought by few and found by fewer. To be truly lost, stripped from all you know and knew, all those things that kept you connected and restrained.
Only when the vices of this world are drawn away and only when you know neither where you’re going, nor where you’ve come from can you truly be lost, and in doing so? Find yourself.

Confronting as it may be to seek, it is tenfold and again to find. The catharsis? Immediate and resounding; heralding not just a new beginning for the ‘self’, but a new 'self’ altogether.

He pitied her. For she would never know herself, or this world. She would be forever entombed in her own.