I am terrible at forming connections with people. I simply don't perceive a lot of the social dynamics and non-verbal cues that apparently most people understand naturally. Combine this with a very deep fear of butting in where I'm not wanted, and you have the recipe for someone who is too slow and clumsy and inhibited to be able to reach out before the moment for reaching out has passed. That would be me.
Over the last however-long-it's been since I've been reading your journal, I've built up a feeling of connection with you, of caring about you, that's greater than that I have for all but a small handful of people in the world, in spite of the fact that we've only met briefly and pretty casually in real life.
You do more stuff in your life than anyone else I know, and you write about it so brilliantly that all of it seems shiny and wonderful. It seems like it would take three busy people just to have all your experiences, and at least another two to write about them in your journal. Yet, on top of that, you write brilliant poetry and fascinating bits of fiction by the reams in your journal and are actively at work on several novels.
You do more to bring joy into the world than anyone I know of or can imagine, much less anyone I know. So, if there's anything I can do to bring some joy into your world, please let me know. You'll have to ask, because I'm too oblivious to notice on my own and too scared to volunteer. I may not be able to help -- I'm not the kind of person who can do anything at all just by wanting to enough; I can only do what I can do -- but I'd love to try.