Sometimes you were too shy. I tried to talk to you, but you didn't really want to. I'm okay with that now, though I missed your company then.
Sometimes you were the one to approach me. Like a flower to the sun, I reveled in your attention, your words, the little bits of you you let me know in that brief time we were together. You asked for my address, and I gave it to you, but you never wrote. I waited, and prayed, and wondered what might have happened to you, or what I might have done. After a year, I stopped. I guess our lifelong friendship wasn't meant to be. We likely will never meet again, and though therefore we shall never be lifelong friends, we were friends for those few hours, and I treasure that.
And that time with you then helped me to realize what the true circumstances of our relationship are.
We are lonely, you and I. All those people, all talking, laughing, chattering...enjoying themselves in their own way, but it is not our way. So we look on, and then we find each other. And then we laugh and talk and chat in our way, for though we have never met before, we are quite great friends. We keep each other company during that party, but when the time is up, we leave, with the implicit knowledge that we shall not be seeing one another again.
We don't know each other's names, but like all good friends, we are there when we need each other. That party was a lovely experience, and I have you to thank you for it.
Thank you for your time, for your words, and for your silence. It was fun. :)
—your fellow introvert