I have been told that an unheard voice canít touch the heart.
I have been told that a distance hand can not be held.
Iíve been told that friendships canít be forge from across the miles.
Iíve been told that what happens online is not real.

But the laughter that was born from our conversations came from my lips.
It was real, not pretend.
The letters and cards that came offered a measure of who you were.
That was not imagined.

The tears that now fallÖ an unfeigned measure of my distress

The friend I found in you wasnít a part of a fantasy;
You shared my day sometimes making me laugh
at other times driving me to distraction.
So many small things I will always rememberÖ.
You were someone who lived in my mind and heart.

If its not real
then why does it hurt so bad?

You will be missed, Steve. In my life and in my day But mostly, from my heart.
In memory of Stephen G Christianson Jan. 21, 1963 - Jan 20, 2005

Solitude is an original compostion by
Margi Harrell
and used with permission.

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