The Perfect Union

I once met two gallons, both robust. One filled with water, the other with coke. They loved each other, and tried to be together. They didn’t make it. Their consensus was that they were different. So they parted.
.
.
The two gallons set a precedent for all lovers with differences… to part ways because they can’t work. For there’s never a third, empty party to pour out some of our content, and graciously accept a refill from the ones we love.
.
.
So, learning from the example of the gallons, a Bauchi girl, 29, and an Imo boy, 32, are contemplating separation. Buddha steps in.
.
He says to them, “Full gallons have reached their limit, their maximum use, the need for which they were made… They’re full. But are you?
.
.
At 29 and 32, are you full? Are you done learning? Are you maxed out? True, you’re different, but you’re only half-full at most. It means that there’s yet room to empty yourselves into each other in an ambience of love, receiving and giving, until you’re evenly mixed.
.
.
In so doing, one of you, at different times, would be less than the other. But there’s no other way, since there is no third gallon. Love is what assures you of safety and protection when you’re near-empty and vulnerable. And then you will rise again.
.
.
Nothing we are, nothing we know, that we didn’t learn here. Here too, we can unlearn and relearn. If love is present, and we’re not “full” of ourselves, surely we have room for one another; to give and to take, until we achieve a perfect union.