You.
You clever bastard, you can always find the right words. You can make me laugh or cry or smile with just the right word at the right moment. You do, and I don't know how... but you do, you care, and in the end that's all that matters.
You've been with me, far but near, for enough time that it feels like forever. We don't talk much anymore, but you're here, always ready to help when I need somebody, and I wouldn't be what I am without you. I owe more than I will ever be able to repay, and you say that knowing me is enough.
You were so often silent these days, and I missed you. Now there's a big question mark between us but that's fine with me... I can accept, and wait, and whatever happens it's going to be fine.
You should take better care of yourself, you know. I worry.
You no longer talk to me. The reasons are your own, and even if I don't like them, I accept and respect them. I sincerely hope you're happy, and I know I'll see you again someday.
You know I hate the silence. Yet it's always there, looming over every conversation we have. Will we ever talk again like we used to? I miss that.
You disappeared, without a word, without a goodbye. Where are you? Come back. I miss you.
You are somebody I have always admired, for many reasons. And so, sometimes I don't know what to say, and I don't say anything, because I am afraid of disappointing, both you and myself. Bear with me, I'm trying my best.
You are somebody I'd love to get to know better and be friends with, but sometimes it's hard to find common ground and something to speak about. Help me out a bit?
You partly shaped how I am. We don't talk often, we never did, but you are part of me, and for that I thank you.
I trust you. You can trust me. Won't you give me your hand? We can walk together, and be safe.