and i wrote a four page long god knows what it's called telling you that you're wonderful and all that's good in the world, (which you really are), having eyes even the Caribbean Sea would envy, hands that fit mine perfectly and all that clichés.
but before I could finish off the last sentence, I realized that I didn't love you, and probably never will. Not that I don't want to, but I can't.
I really meant to love you, I'm sorry.
and you can tell me what we had was not love, which is true, but I'd still feel equally guilty.
But my darling, you are wonderful.
excerpt:
"if I could describe you in one word, it'd be wonderful.
Because that's what you really are, absolutely, utterly wonderful.
and maybe you're thinking 'why not perfect?'
because I know you aren't, you know you aren't, and after all, you are just human.
But just human is good. human and flawed is good.
It means you're real.
It means you're not a figment…