Her

You detect a sense of
 sadness, while your
  heart is overpowered
   by love.

You think that life
 is gone, but
  you just can't wait
   until you see her again.

You say that you've
 got no real purpose
  for living, while
   she cares for you.

This poem is not
 written for you,
  but it is written
   for me.

I wonder whether it's
 possible to be both?