I keep hoping, thinking that at some point my thoughts and feelings for you will wither and die. Hasn’t happened yet. Most likely, it’s because I still think of you and wander into your own world of words (your blog), or into what has been written and said over the past 9 years. It’s been 7 years since you pulled the plug and yet, I can’t get over you. I know you’ve moved on, gotten married, and are happy now. That’s good- I’d hate for both of us to be miserable. Your Lost Words come back to me, time and time again. I could probably close my eyes and recite them by heart. It’s terribly wasteful and unproductive of me to still long for you; I recognize that. But as my stress, anxiety, and generally depressed situation gets worse, I find myself taking comfort in what you wrote and how you made me feel. I once described conversing with you as “intoxicating.” And, for my own health, I should go “on the wagon” and stop drinking from the goblet of memories that never seems to get stale. But, it’s a nearly impossible task when I think that the only time I felt desired or special was the two years we were connected (re-connected). If only I could hear your voice, with that lovely accent, one more time . . .