Since I came of age, and our 3 years separation was ended, we had shared all joys and griefs, and all opinions (in agreement or otherwise), so that I still often find myself thinking 'I must tell Edith about this' – and then suddenly I feel like a castaway left on a barren island under a heedless sky after the loss of a great ship.
… the Luthien Tinuviel of my own personal 'romance', with her long dark hair, fair face and starry eyes, and beautiful voice…
But now she has gone before Beren, leaving him indeed one-handed.
[from Letter 332 of 'The Letters of JRR Tolkien']
Melancholic moments sometimes strike me, and I feel for a second something of how I would respond if Maria were to die. I won't describe it now, but I will say what happens in the middle of it: I find myself loving her more (or being more aware of the degree to which I love her).
'The way to love anything is to realise that it may be lost' said Chesterton.