I miss you

which feels odd because it isn't like we've not spent time apart before. I'm so pleased you've found someone to love and who loves you back. He seems to make you so happy and I'm proud you've faced your fears and let him into your life because you're so wonderful you deserve to share yourself with someone worthy.

I don't feel I can tell you I miss you because I know you're happy and I don't want to dent that. I'm hiding behind an unwarranted fear you'll be upset I feel like we're drifting apart; even though we've seen each other recently it feels like the connection is weakening. In reality I think you'd probably be flattered that I care, but convincing myself of that will take some doing.

Since you came back from travelling it's been harder to see you on your own, just time for you and I to open up and share our friendship. I'm pleased you've spread your wings and you're spending time doing new things with new friends. I don't resent your new relationships; at least I try not to. I'd be lying if I didn't admit to being jealous and whistful along with pleased and prideful when thinking about your new friendships and relationship, but I think the former emotions are perfectly natural and are an indication of how much you mean to me. I'd go so far as to call you my best friend, which is why it bothers me when I feel like we're drifting apart.

There are so many things about you that I love. You're funny, smart, insightful, caring and almost universally free with your appreciation of people and life, to name just a few. These qualities mean so much to me, but there's one thing you do that makes a world of difference: you're the only person who listens to me, the only person who hears me when I speak.

Most people in my private life 'listen' when I speak. It's in quotes because it's superficial listening, not the understanding and empathic listening you provide. Noone at work listens to me, but I don't hold that against them because it's cultural. I don't think I'm wrong when I say you're the only person I know who really listens, but it is a shame. Being a natural listener myself, I don't think people realise that I often need to talk, to be heard, to get stuff out of my head. I've realised I need to be frank about my desire to talk, instead of expecting people to do it without being asked. Christ, I'm sat here opening my heart to a mobile phone keyboard instead of talking to a real person, that's how it is. So I should be forthright with my other friends to see who can offer the listening I need.

That doesn't solve my main concern, which is that we're drifting apart. Ironically enough we've just made arrangements to meet up next week, and I'm steeled now to make more of an effort to stay in touch. I hide behind a fear of rejection when I think about calling you and trying to arrange to do something together, and that's increased since your social life took off and you found your man friend. That's nothing you've done of course, just internal demons I've yet to face. I feel a little closer to facing them now I've laid all this out in words instead of a jumble of thoughts, but I find it woefully ironic that of all the people I could talk about this, you'd be the hardest to approach.