about loneliness

Jerry, I feel you. That's how I've felt most of this year, well, mostly. It wasn't so much the physical loneliness as the psychic that got to me. Not having someone to talk to unconditionally. Missing you. Not knowing what's next or why or how it will come.

Maybe I'm still looking for that fling, maybe work has made me some friends that manage to keep me busy, maybe I've perfected the art of thinking about other things, but you're always on my mind, hon. I have to put parts of me in hibernation to go so long without seeing you, or I'll rot away from sadness. Maybe we won't ever have what we used to, because life is just working out like that. I want you to know that I'm going to have a hard time finding anyone to mean even half of what you mean to me.

And yeah, I wish things were different. Things I could have changed, things I have no power over.

I'm ready for a new adventure, and I know you are too. You look around and see tenderness, and wonder when it's coming back for you. It's hard not to get frustrated, but if you don't keep trying- well, it's not going to fall into your lap. The joy of getting to know someone new, of working things out, of giddiness and nausea, that's what you're missing. Me too. Little crushes and shy smiles. The awkward dance, the contrived meetings and things you go out of your way to do. Feeling like a fool but having it all come out alright at the end. Stories to tell.

Good luck, but don't be a stranger. I love you.