Hey Bear,

I have been thinking about you a lot again. From time to time, your energy just consumes me. I know you want nothing to do with me, which is nobody's fault but my own. That won't ever change the fact that I miss you, or that I'm reminded of you in the ordinary, mundane things. In my daily life, you exist everywhere—in the sunsets and in parking garages. There's always something that brings my focus back to you, to us.

I find myself daydreaming about you more when things at home are rough. I get so in my head thinking about the safety of your presence—how your laugh filled my chest with peace, or how your smile would make my day. I wonder how you're doing and what you're doing. I wonder how much your daily routine has changed or if you still follow the one that's familiar to me. You always were a creature of habit.

I get stuck in the memories, wishing I could hear your voice again, to make new memories so I don't have to play the same ones over and over again. What I would do to just have you drunk text me one last time—that was the only time you would express your true, raw feelings with me. When you're sober, you truly are avoidant. That's why we weren't ever anything, not really. Just "friends"—friends who talked on the phone all hours of the day, friends who shared knowing glances and hand brushes.

I miss the feeling of your hand intentionally brushing mine. The energy it would send into every cell in my body made me feel less empty inside. It's been years since we shared the same space, years since I got to see that smile and hear that laugh, yet you still consume me in ways I didn't even know were possible. I still love you just as much, if not more, as the day I left. I know when I freaked out it wasn't my best moment.

You never deserved that kind of disrespect. I was scared, irrational, and projecting my issues onto you. That's been my biggest regret in life—leaving you the way I did after what I said. I have been wanting to make it up to you since the moment my finger hit the block button, since I ghosted you. If I could undo it, I would, but I can't. I've tried, but you rightfully so don't want me in your life anymore.

Now I just feel like some crazy stalker who can't let go, even though I'm constantly fighting my brain to let go of you—it won't. Maybe we will meet in a different life. Maybe we will meet again in this one. I dream about that, too—running into you randomly, reconnecting, feeling that safety again. I'm sorry for everything, and I really do hope you're doing well.

You will forever have a place in me, so if by some off chance you're seeing this, if the universe lets you see this, just know my door is always open and there will always be space for you here. Thank you for being the person I could tell my darkest demons to.

With all the love I can muster, -G