You say “goodbye,” and I say “hello”. We oppose each other, and therefore – just like a famous equation – we are equal. We stare into each other’s eyes, we reflect each other, each containing the other’s difference.
You say “goodbye,” and I say “hello”: we complete each other’s sentences, figuratively and literally. We are the same verb, and only we know the adverb. Our hostility is a difficult poem, beautiful despite evading most readers. I understand – I know what it means – and I only wish I could reveal that meaning to you, who, whenever I say “hello”, have just said, “goodbye.”