Waiting for the peasant

Tea and I were always great confidants. I could understand what he said (even if it sometimes hurted) and he seemed to feel well when I listened to his problems. And he... he was fantastic, he was the only one who could hit the center of my thoughts even when I didn't know it yet. It took few minutes to solve my problem, by conversating with him for a while.
He never told me the absolute truth, at least not when it happened, maybe later, when it was passed.
First he did so because he didn't want to hurt me more than he already did. Later, because he didn't want me to meddle into his life. But he anyway had a special care with me, and after his periods of silence he stopped being distant and we got on well.

But it happened to him last year to knew this girl. He really got crazy about her, and I thought sooner or later his feelings would have been over (like other times). But from that moment he's no more spontaneous as in past. That girl, I think, didn't love him as he do and he could understand my situation. He asked me I could I love him without receiving any care in exchange. How could I continue to wait him?
(I did not properly wait him, I still had Lego and I was glad of how my life was going, loving little thing all around me, but we knew that he would have been for ever in a little, unapprochable, place of my heart). He was understanding me then, more than ever.
From that moment he spoke no more about his life.
When we chatted he was unemotional.Despite this, If I asked for his help, when I need someone to confess my troubles (which often were linked to him) he was available and lovable and he succesfully helped me understanding myself.

Once I was very stressed because of my training at the university laboratory. I worked there on a project I liked, but the behaviour of the teacher and his coworkers was awful and they didn't respect the statement of the university.
Anyway, I told him I was stressed and that I was burbling on stupid things as soon as I met someone because that made me relax.
He said that he was stressed too and I offered to listen his burbling, if it could him relax; but he explained me that men (or at least he) didn't need to spoke to relax. He said that they shut themselves away and reflect. Then, if nobody bothered them, it would go better.
From then on, if I felt him distant I simply said him goodbye and retried after some days. It worked.

But last autumn: the jam.
Some bad things happened to him. I'll tell that story another time, shift with this.
These thing were surely stressing for him, I told him he had all my support but I didn't force him to speak. I'm still waiting.
I start speaking only once per month, hoping he'd open up with me, but I always found him offish and of few words.
And I'm still waiting.
I'm trying to contain myself, I don't want to call him again, but I don't know if I'll manage to do it.

So I'm trying to write him a letter, a snail mail letter, in which I say that I'm waiting because I don't want to bother him, yes, but I want to be his confidant again. I can't stand the idea of being forgotten when he feels better. I'll neither tell him now how many times in a day he comes into my head, I only want to say that I'm here and always be, and I want always to keep in contact with, even if the things he says will hurt me. Does this situation not hurt me?
And evenmore, I need him as confident. This blog helps me, but I want him, it was so easy for him to dig into my mind and extract my troubles as carrots in a field... (what a poetic methaphor O_ò)
The only problem is that I'm never inspired to write in italian. It's my mother tongue, but I never feel able to exprime my real feelings, sometimes I found on paper words I don't even know as being thought by my mind!

I hope that I'll manage to write to him, beacuse only so this blog would be less heavy!