The words you have written to me reach forth from the paper, tearing through my soul. Laid to waste, all the careful walls I built - hiding myself from me. My reflection I cannot fathom, the murky pool of my soul is cold and lifeless, I can see neither stars, nor moon. The timeless dance, so effortless forever - now I stumble, unaware, uncertain. Could I not stay another day? I have been dead since the beginning, living my life without seeing in color. The pain is palpable, sitting in my heart - shifting carelessly without remorse. Will our union think of me fondly as she lays in bed at night? Will I be a curse on her lips, unforgiven? Will she ever understand? I am afraid.
As I fold your letter, I beg for your forgiveness, but I cannot return to what never was. Once we were friends, time might make us friends again - but never lovers. Lives are too short to never see in color. It is my wish for you, that you also can find the love that will paint your life with it's own pallette.
Always will I keep you in my thoughts fondly.
As I fold your letter, I beg for your forgiveness, but I cannot return to what never was. Once we were friends, time might make us friends again - but never lovers. Lives are too short to never see in color. It is my wish for you, that you also can find the love that will paint your life with it's own pallette.
Always will I keep you in my thoughts fondly.

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