P.M.,
I have yearned to call you many times over the years. It always seemed improper. We were apart, and any attempt to connect on a simple human level would probably still light the old fires. Much of me still wants to light the old fires. You and I were an all consuming force. Our every touch could blaze the sun.
I finally called. Enough years had passed that surely we were such different people we could reminiss about who were then and learn who we later became. I dearly wish to know and love the person you became. Your father answered the phone. You died last year.
I will always love you, even at a distance.