Some have suggested that the following story is about grieving the loss of a loved one, but I've always seen it as more of a metaphorical allegory for melancholy and what it's like to truly discover oneself alone amidst all existence.
The Dragonfly Story
“In the bottom of an old pond lived some grubs who could not understand why none of their group ever came back after crawling up the lily stems to the top of the water. They promised each other that the next one who was called to make the upward climb would return and tell what had happened to him. Soon one of them felt an urgent impulse to seek the surface; he rested himself on the top of a lily pad and went through a glorious transformation which made him a dragonfly with beautiful wings. In vain he tried to keep his promise. Flying back and forth over the pond, he peered down at his friends below. Then he realized that even if they could see him they would not recognize such a radiant creature as one of their number.
The fact that we cannot see our friends or communicate with them after certain transformations is no proof that we or they cease to exist.”