Why do we prefer missing people to having contact with them? Is there just something sweet in the melancholy ache? Or do we just prefer our distorted memories of them to their reality?

Or. Third Option. Do we fear our own realities can't live up to their distorted memories? Or that whatever bond we remember having is a thing glorified only with the passage of time and absence and there was nothing really there?

And then at least we have our version of the past which could be undone by present interaction and then we’d have nothing?

So, here we stay, all missing each other horribly, but afraid to test if what or whom we miss was ever even real, and saying "we had this amazing friendship once" and that's something to cling to.

(yeah yeah i posted this other places, but it's really bothering me.)