Not a day goes by that I don't think of you.
Sometimes I listen to music I know you like so I can feel more connected with you. Silly, I know, but I also know that if I told you, you wouldn't laugh.
I miss you.
Other times I stumble upon rare songs --or bands-- and think of you. Think of the many hours I know you've spent searching and listening to your findings. And I find it remarkable.
I've often thought about calling you. I never do. Obviously. (You would probably smile a bit at that).
I really miss you.
It's weird not having you around. It's even more weird not having you around on my own volition. I never thought that would happen. (My guess is neither did you).
But I do think of you, a lot. Your voice is part of my internal repertoire now. (Some things just feel --sound, look, smell-- a lot better when they sound like you).
The problem is, the problem is, the problem is... (Why does it even have to exist a problem?). I'm not sure I know what is the problem anymore.
Anyway, I just wanted to say --whisper, yell, write-- that...