"Little Darling
It's been a long, cold, lonely winter
Little Darling,
It feels like years since it's been here..."
But the sun isn't coming back, you're gone. You, the reason for my name, the intense self assurance of the fact that it doesn't matter how shit things are, because when we sing together, when we make love out of music and smiles, everything's all right.
I don't know why you can't see how much you mean to me, but maybe you're just really sad or angry or, god, I don't know. But the way I miss you, is insane. Please, let me see you again.
I remember when I met you, and scoffed when I found out we had an ex in common, and thought to myself, "I hope I talk to this pretty new girl again, she seems nice." Little did I know, you were a pot filled to the brim with fantastic comebacks, amazing good times and someone who actually understood.
That day we sax-ed it up, duet style, was absolutely amazing. And when we sewed your clothes and sang beatles songs with you're guitarring, I felt at peace with the world.
I sit here, in your orange hat, which I now feel I've practically stolen from you. And I don't care that this sadness you've unleashed has possibly ruined my day, or that you're not replying and I desperately want you to understand. No, the blatant unimportance of my issues, in comparison to yours, are nothing.
I'm sorry, whatever I've done, I'm sorry. Please don't leave me, I don't care if you go to Tassie forever and live a sin-free life without my precense, but atleast let me say goodbye, and beg you to stay.
Immense love, mare chair.
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