But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams- W.B. Yeats
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You leave us breathless and wanting more...How can one who commands such respect and adoration in those around you feel such emptiness and sorrow? It is not answers I seek, I'm simply unable to comprehend.
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Please don't disappear, Santiago.
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