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I don't know where to land in this rapid vacillation between manic optimism and necrotic despair. I'll float in the inbetween until you make your way over. You, or I, or them, someone[thing] is missing.

[vague, and vacuous]

I found you, in the wild no less. Rather, I stumbled, and then I crept to be certain. We've neither changed as much as I'd have thought we would after so many years. How strange to suddenly recall that we've grown older--I don't remember it some days. Some days, I can't even remember who that person was, once called by my same name, and that this body is somehow still the same one that held her. The shapes are pretty much the same, luck and genetics have kept the scaffolding holding, but the shadows weigh heavier somehow. I keep my thoughts shallow now, and blunted. I think that there is a perfect me-sized hole in a mountain somewhere, calling to me...
Anyway.
I'm glad that you are still out there. Maybe we will fall into friendship again one day.