Are you there??

So I've kinda become a stalker towards one of my friends....actually I'm stopping tonight. (Though i still might look at his myspace page every now and again even though it's blocked) Anyways, I've known this guy since we were two and three.....and we became decent friends two summer's ago, '04 I believe it was. Well we would send emails every now and again.....when he had a girlfriend they would always slow down. He asked me to come and visit him before he leaves to attend BYU-H in August. I was trying to figure out a way, but flights weren't very open and my family took priority. Well about two months since he asked me, he hasn't written me a single word! And so needless to say, my stalking skills came into play to see if everything was okay. Hmmmmmm...his myspace page leads me to believe that he has a girlfriend or a lady friend that he is flirting with. But I wish he would talk to me! I'd love to visit him and his family, but you see.....i just deleted his email address from my contacts list since it seems that my emails are to no avail. Yes I could contact his mother, of whom I have an email address for, but I'd rather not go if it's going to be awkward. WOW! I really need to say all this and get it off of my chest! Do any of you have suggestions?
Now for a turn of thoughts...
Tonight we had the adult session of stake conference. The youth in my stake recently went on a trek and so there were a few statements made about it. Our stake president mentioned the women's pull that they had, and a flood of memories came into my mind. I remembered our women's pull and how the men were still there, but they could not touch us or talk to us. Us women had to be silent too, and then I remembered how Megan and I were in the yoke part of the cart together. The look she gave me, followed by a whispered, "You want to go help?", the nodded reply followed by the two of us setting the cart gently down, while our brothers signaled for us not too. Us hiking up our skirts and running full force to the cart that was having difficulties at the very top of the hill and pushing and pulling until they reached the peak. Then going down to the next cart, and the next, and finally it was our turn. By then the girls who had made it over were coming back to repay the service. The comments that I received from a man I greatly admire, Pres. Hall. Then this was followed by the memories of how Megan introduced herself to us at the trek: "Megan who loves Clark!" Memories of her braiding my hair, the complements she gave me, then back to previous girls camps, and then forward to two years ago January when I received news that she had passed away in a car accident. Leaving behind her husband, Clark, in a coma. The viewing, the funeral, the tears, the songs sung, the hugs, the love.
The closing song for the session was a musical number of God Be With You Till We Meet Again. I could remember that song from the memories of Megan, feel her presence, her voice mingled with theirs. I tried to hold back the tears, a few escaped, but I could not mingle afterwards, for fear of bursting. A sister from my branch greeted me, but I had to rush out. I made it to my car and broke down. Megan was like an older sister to me. She was my example, a girl I looked up to and wanted to be like. I have always wanted to tell her that that was the way I felt about her, ever since I met her. But the closest I came to that was actually being her sister in the trek, and being with her. I want, so badly, to be like her. I need to be like her.