Missing Pieces

I miss my friend.

I've been sick this week. It's as if I've had the flu but I'm not convinced it's more physical than it is emotional.

I'm very picky with relationships, whether friendships or more. High school was a different story - I would befriend everyone, see the good in all. Though a rather Utopian outlook, this lead me into some poor company. I spent a few years as a relative recluse, an almost misanthrope, since refining my criteria for friendship to those who inspire me, those I have a connection with. I have found some very close friends who I have multiple connections with - the more connections we share, the more they mean to me.

3 years ago I found another such friend - but this one was different. There were connections made on more levels than with anyone else I'd encountered before. I had found in her the closest approximation to soul mate that I'd ever known. When I looked at her eyes I saw something in them: the spark of recognition. Kindred spirits in the deepest sense.

We spent a great deal of time in each other's heads, shared things that only we know about each other. To be known so well is very special, but to be understood so profoundly is something amazing.

Due to distance & circumstance our meetings have been limited, but every time we've been in each other's presence the enveloping sensation of Oneness has been tangible, increasing in intensity each time, as the bond deepened, to the point where there was almost a physical connection between us, even when apart.

Within the past 6 months the intensity shifted gear. It was a natural progression, but other factors were in play, and as a result it caused conflict. Now I no longer have that level of contact with my friend. I invested much of myself in this relationship, and with the loss of contact has gone a piece of me.

I know that she looks on this period as a negative one, and possibly with regret. For me that is incredibly saddening, as I experienced some of the greatest moments of my life with her. I don't live life with regrets - every experience is one of growth.

I hope that she never forgets that I have seen her, I understand her, in ways no-one else has before. The same is true in reverse.

This should not be forgotten.

This may not be something she wants to think about or even admit to herself, but those moments of looking in each other's eyes - of looking into each other - were all the confirmation needed.

I miss you so much it makes me physically ill.

^At least even this thought has some beauty in it.