Dear love,
This may be the last letter i write. I heard you are getting married and moving to the city. I know our romance was improbable. Or just a bare love story in the nights of winters, where the mid December evenings used to raise a few degrees as you would untie your hair. How i used to see your glowing face across the river, as you would approach me. You remember the the first time we flirted with each other? Who knew we would be inseparable, two lovers who can not be undone until you had to leave. I hope you make the write choice. At a point in life, you'll stop and think of me, yes by then i'll have a little amount of hate for you, as you left me, but as you would come out with your make up done, in your wedding dress and think of me,
You'll see me across the room, looking at you with pure glitter in my eyes, then you'll notice i'll turn and wipe my tear hideously and look back at you, in this moment you would give me a apologetic smile, and i'll come towards you, closer to you as i'd look deep down your eyes to your soul, i'll just give you this last stare, the little queen of beauty, i'd whisper in your ear of how i still love you, and before the ceremony begins, my footsteps will calmingly leave the venue, but tell me what good it is? You'll still be in my heart. And once like i was made to imagine, i'll be made to see, that finally you're with somebody else.
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