Dear ___,
I love you. You have been on my mind almost daily since your visit in October. It's probably not healthy for me to be holding on like this, but there is no one else in my life that comes close to matching the quality of a human being that you are. I have flirted with many people in your absence. There are a lot of lovely people out there. I made out with one person last May, fell into infatuation over the phone later with someone else in June, and then in August I met a woman who loved me very much. I explored a few weeks of a relationship with her, but I found that, though she was a very interesting and beautiful person, I just didn't love, or, dare I say, like her.
I'm not *totally* hung up on you. I can think of two, maybe three other people I know I would be comfortable in a long term relationship with. But they are far away (as you are) and I don't know them as well as I know you.
It's hard, really hard being physically limited. Who wants to date a limping person? Maybe some people, but I'm not brave enough to limp over to them and really put myself forward, especially when I know my life is in shambles, and I'd be dragging them into it. And, especially when I know that I could heal, let go of what I need to let go, and then go for them. Then I could be a more functional boyfriend.
I haven't been in the arms of someone I loved since you came to my house. So, you remain, in my mind, the person I love. I know it's screwed up, and I know that you don't feel the same way. Your life moves at a faster pace; naturally you've moved on to be with someone else. I really am happy for you. But every time I say that I love you from afar and try to be satisfied with that, I feel my heart physically closing up, like the beginning of a panic attack.
I love you. I can't help it. And I can't help wanting to be near you. I love you and I can't not say it.