She is not there. Currently, he sits before his computer at home. At this very moment, someone else might be thinking of her. Whether that someone is by her side or not, he remains at his desk. No matter how she exists within his mind, how can he be certain that it is truly “her”? What is the heart, and where does it reside?
If he were thinking of her while sitting right next to her, could we say that the person in his heart is truly her? For instance, if she desires conversation rather than a game, yet he suggests playing one—at that moment, is the “she who seeks dialogue” the same as the “she in the heart of the man beside her”? Is he not seeing her through the lens of his own mind, rather than seeing the woman actually sitting there? Yet, when comparing the man at his computer to the man by her side, the latter is undeniably closer to her—at least physically.
Can we always say that physical proximity equates to being closer to a person? Even if we consider this “closeness” as physical distance, it does not always align with the distance of the heart. For example, a couple working in different workplaces may feel a heart-distance much shorter than that between themselves and their respective colleagues. Conversely, the opposite could also be true.
In this sense, perhaps the distance of the heart is not about mere physical space, but rather a difference in the “importance of the relationship.” This importance refers to the emotional and psychological priority for the individuals involved. The reason a couple working apart feels closer to each other than to their colleagues is that their relationship as a couple is significant to them. When this is not the case, it is because their connection with colleagues carries more weight than their bond as a couple.
But is it only the difference in importance that defines the distance of the heart? For instance, the passion shared in a heated professional debate between colleagues may not necessarily match the intensity of a couple discussing their next date.
Perhaps the distance of the heart is not about importance, but rather a difference in the “mode of the relationship.” This “mode” refers to the communication and mutual attitudes between the parties involved. Naturally, one’s attitude toward a partner differs from their attitude toward work.
While I say “naturally,” there is room for doubt. What of those who claim their work is their lover? We cannot deny the existence of people who approach their work with the same devotion they would show a partner.
However, this does not negate the idea that the distance of the heart is a difference in the mode of relationship. Within one’s own heart—whether dealing with a lover or work—how one engages with them defines the distance of the heart or the mode of the relationship. The importance of the relationship can also be seen as one manifestation of this mode.
If the distance of the heart is the mode of the relationship, and that distance is based on how we relate, then what exactly is the “heart”? When we are conscious of our heart, we are thinking or feeling something. Descartes famously said, “I think, therefore I am.” Yet, what exists there is not the “I” in isolation, but a relationship between that “I” and the object of its thoughts. While we can say the heart exists because “I think,” the act of “thinking” is inherently relational. It exists not simply because one thinks, but because one thinks of someone or something. The heart dwells within the mode of relationship; it is something that emerges through the encounter with another.
