Dear Noy,
It has been one year, seven months, thirteen days, 12 hours and n minutes (i hope I've captured the time range correctly) since the night we hugged each other under fireworks in the sky. We welcomed the new year like the year was made to come only for the two of us. It was our year, we thought. The firework fountain seemed sparkle-y like our eyes - emitting heart-shaped flickers as if joining our little celebration. It's the same time (not lost, i hope) since you promised what every man I know promises every woman I know.
Fast forward. *preferential fast forward theme song here*
It's been a roller coaster ride since that fateful night.
Lies, as much as truth, have been told. The former, though, was more evident. We exchanged implicit thoughts like a very good tennis rally.
Do not forget to remember the music we both loved and listened to almost every time we were together. You played the guitar; I sang. The sweetness of those moments actually raised me into a higher level of euphoria which even the intimacy of lovers cannot illustrate.
And like every woman I know, I still dream of positive vibrations to come my way, our way. Faith, even just a little faith, will get us through, don't we worry.
At this moment, I feel speechless. I might write you again and explain what I stupidly wrote in this one and be sorry for all the future letters I will be writing you and be more sorry for relaying non-sense to your end.
Gomenasai...
Too much love,
Ne
And that's why I would not fucking dare make, even send, a love letter. I tend to be cheesy. Or sound stupid...Or both...Or dramatic...Or all of them...
*drama goes to fade as the Rembrandts' Someone ends*
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