Infinite Existence

 

My darling, you say you have existential crisis!

But how can that be possible? For you exist infinitely in my Universe.

My entire universe is saturated with traces of your existence.

You exist in the form of your red lipstick stains on my coffee mug.

You exist in the form of that sweet lingering smell on my bedsheets and my rug.

I will tell you what, you exist in the form of tears welled up in my eyes at the thought of losing you.

You exist in the form of a smile that stretches from ear to ear at the privilege of having you.

You exist in longings and belongings, in sanity and madness.

Your existence slowly seeps into my bright spring days and comforts me in my cold winter nights.

It is as joyous as your touch, as ruthless as your nudge.

Yes, you exist in all three planes and through the blood raging in my veins.

You exist in the form of a human embodiment of that rare cloudy day in the middle of summer.

And you exist in the form of a dire need to my soul.

Your absence is a palpable pain in my heart.

Your presence is the molecules thumping across my organs, bewildered and excited at the sight of you.

You are delinquency and delight, Joy and plight.

You are mundane and fun, and monotony and adventure.

Illusion and consciousness, sanity and madness.

My darling, how can you claim of having existential crisis when you are omnipresent in my universe?

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