He sees her now, out of the corner of his eye, and is hit by a wave of complexity so deep it nearly doubles him over. He’s filled with sorrow so deep that he can’t see through the clutches of its inky blackness and the memory of a love bright enough to pierce it, even here, even now. She’s laughing, as she does often, but there’s a melancholy
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I will always have a while. I will always be there to be the one you know you'll call.
You paint pictures with your words, you know that? This was a sad picture, but still beautiful.
You're amazing. Never think anything less.
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