Someone will get to call you beautiful someday and someone will write about you the way I did (or maybe still do) but the difference is that she will send them all to you. Unlike me who loved you only in silence and let every page of my writings about you be buried beneath the dust and momeries, leaving them all unsent.
She will love you,
In a way I could never be able to love you.
And you will love her,
In a way like you've never loved before.
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