No, nothing sums up to it. Just a separation; a gap, a void, a distance from everyone and everything. Towering. Extending. Prolonged. And I wish I was one of those many poets who could alter this hopelessness into something delightful. But you don't understand. You won't understand. And I can't explain.
We are all responding to our capacity to execute life and live fully; not in finding the breach that you thought never existed in the first place, not in filling holes, nor keeping up with someone who's lost, or probably wasn't even there to begin with. We don't have to venture and experience the world in the way we have been told to. So maybe, just maybe, in parting we could grow.
One day, you'll grasp the subterfuge of our existence. When the day comes, you'll gaze at life with the brightest smile, whispering to the restless winds: "I am just passing by."
So this is your maverick. And this is Vienna.