For all of you who have ever considered actually telling someone the thing you are thinking and for those who are too afraid, try this approach: write a letter to no one. Don't address it. Don't add clues. Write a letter not for the receiver, but for you. You'll feel better when you do.
To whom it may concern:
I miss you. Not the same as I did before, but I miss you. I search for glimpses of you and your work but never seem to find you. I know you are still out there. I've gotten over all of it now and I just want to be able to talk to you like before. I wish I could just sit down and write you a letter, but where would I send it? One of the worst things about just giving your information is waiting for the other person to initiate a conversation.
The worst part is, it isn't just you. It is you too. Long past and forgotten by all but me (I'm sure), you haunt me. I keep asking myself the same question: why did you come to my show? Why did you appear like there was no difference so long after? Now I feel like it is finally possible to be friends again. But I hate making the first call.
And finally you. The longest of this running charade and the only one whom I don't fear contacting, you mean nothing to me anymore, but I still feel like I should remain connected. What for? I fear I could never trust you again.
What does this mean? Why should you care? You shouldn't. This letter isn't to you; or is it? Only three spin in my mind and only one stands a chance. And the one that does will never read it. But like I said, I miss you. ~Me