I know you’re there. I want you desperately to know I’ve been watching, waiting to participate, but unable to touch you. I am still mystified by how unresponsive I was to your many subtle hints. I was, in denial perhaps? The feeling is that one… ya know, where the world is muted, the plastic wrap is pulled tight, softening my view. I can see, but touch is what I need. With the barrier between us, you’re suddenly out of my grasp. There is but a tiny peep hole that lets in the light and the smell of rain. I have so much to say, how could it be you had to die for me to realize how special you were? If I was your breath, you were my lungs….. two weeks without writing, I feel like Bambi learning to walk on the ice, just now. Still, the familiar has become…