How do I create without Rosa in my life?

This is a question I've been posing to myself the past couple of days. (And one I'm going to regret ever mentioning in the fantastically unlikely event she and I ever do end up together.)

It seems that Rosa has been around from the beginning. When I started my first book at 17, she was around to see it half-finished two years later. And she lost it. But she was around for everything since then. Seven novels. Three plays. More short stories than I can count. Innumerable poems.

Words mean very little without her to hear them - and, in fact, it's a chore to write here.

But I do for therapy.

I feel I should be creating great art, doing something constructive, providing some meaning... and all my mind can give me is a reminder of her eyes, the softness of her breath... stupid mind...