Dear you,
I want to tell you something and I know you won't like it. I know that reading this will frustrate you, how every word makes absolutely no sense. You've made it clear that there won't be such a thing as Us. And I want to make myself clear by telling you that asking me not to love you is not going to make me stop. Telling me to put out my fire will not make me grab the nearest bucket of water. I'll never look for a blanket to throw over these flames. Because what makes them true, all these feelings I have for you, is that here I am writing when there was no possibility for me to write again. Here I am trying to tell you something that you'll never truly understand, that I love you. And my love for you grows deeper by the day. It's not a strike of lightening, it's not instant. It's a developing process. My dear, my love for you is a sunset. You bring out the prettiest shades of orange in me, you bring out love stories and daydreams in me. And my love will not stop at this point simply because you asked me to move on. I hope I made it clear enough that you're absolutely the one.