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Imaginary Love: Ligne D’arrivée

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My sweet creature,

It has been ages since any of us said a thing to another. An age since you never replied not only the last letter I wrote you but a few instant messages I sent you as well. It has been an experience which has created an unfathomable state of suspense, and a limbo I have grown not to like.
I keep checking my notifications wishing I could borrow a minute portion of your passion, glow, and good cheer but there you are – cold is cold as ice is ice. My rose, you bloom alone on the hillside.

Consequently, believing that I have not been poor at interpreting these and more signs, I have taken it upon myself to illustrate to you my feelings and thoughts. For the very last time. Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing belongs to them.

This is the first and last time I write to you knowing exactly what to say to you: I love you, I love you, I love you. I want you to know that. I want you to know that I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. I want you to know that I mean that seriously.

However, My Dearest, whatever this was – this fantasy we never realised, is finally over as it has by its own accord reached its unfortunate demise.
One way or another, everything comes than end. It is all over some day. That is perhaps one of the most fascinating truths we know about the entire universe. The stars die, the galaxies die. Our fantasy too has died.

All I care about – honest to God – is that you are happy. Now, I do not much care about who you will find happiness with as long as he is a friendly bloke who treats you nice and kind. If he does not, I will come after him with Thor’s hammer and a huge clinker.

You may rest assured that I will not attempt to have any affairs with any other female, at least until a red blossom blooms in my heart and is favoured by fate just enough to find a similar one in the heart of another person whose road and mine may merge. I have tried taking on any beautiful challenges and miserably failed. None compares to you. You are probably the most beautiful soul there is. Never forget that.

I still hear the soothing sound of your voice. You always appear to me in my dreams. Not a day goes by without you on my mind. I imagine you before my eyes – a beautiful image, a lovely memory I will keep to my last breath.
Moving forward, I will find a new obsession. My new job, my new school, my new home, my new community but chiefly and above all, improving my writing. Not to or about you, I hasten to add. There are many other ludicrous and human comedies to constitute my shroud.

I have faults, I know, but some good qualities as well, I hope. But you, My Dear, inspired such love in me but I was, unfortunately, never there, and able to express it to you.

Try and look after yourself my love. God’s eye may be on the sparrow but my eye will always be on you. Living half way around the internet is not an impediment. It provides us with mediums which make it inevitable.

I shall miss you with passion and with regret. Until my last breath I shall pray for your happiness.

Yours,
the candle partner, that never was,
your eternal flame, that never was,
the hopeless romantic that I am,
Twino.

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