Do our souls ever become plural? Our clichés about romance and marriage tell us that this is the aim of such a bond. But in marriage, the aim is a cocktail, a pleasing mixture of qualities that work together and can be repeated time and again. Something different happens in fusion.
The energy of the sun explodes in fusion. There is volatility in a pairing where two are one. When worlds align, values collide, sentence form in one mouth and end in another. But these fusions explode like the sun in rivalries over time. Even the Coen brothers had to stop making movies together for some years.
When these pairings sever prematurely and one goes away, then the rivalries are sidestepped, and pain lingers. The fused heart never has a chance to separate. It is left within a dying or lost soul, and one wanders in search of the ghost, the one with the sentences you can still begin but no one is there to complete.