Sad writer’s Love Letter

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I hope she’ll be forgiving not because I want to hurt her. I’d never hurt the person I love intentionally, ever. I’m a good guy who buys chocolates and flowers and wants to take her to the movies, be in a cooking class together and watch the sunset until the day is over. I’m not the life of the party, and I’m pretty much a beta male. I hope she forgives me in times when I’m dull because I really don’t have a life besides writing greeting card poetry, binge-watching all of my favorite TV shows and meeting my shrink once or twice or thrice a week depending on how much crazy I’m feeling. All I can promise is that I’ll let her eat the last piece of pizza and cherish her so much on nights when she’s feeling extra tired and empty. I’ll try to make her smile or giggle even just for a little bit as I do the sexy evening kitchen dance while an Ed Sheeran song is playing on the radio. I hope she forgives me when I someday tell her “I love you” and what I really mean by that is “I’m broken, and I’m very much clueless when it comes to love but here’s my heart and I promise you that it will beat for you till’ the last of my tomorrows and hopefully you can do the same for me.”

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