At the time I didn't get it. At all.
I would look at her with her eyes closed and know she was some place special. I would close my eyes also but to take a nap. No loss to me as napping is one of my favourite hobbies because I am secretly an old man haha
She and I were always on different pages, yet bound in the same book. Mere chapters from each other. She would cut and perm her own hair. It was wild.
We ended like Tchaikovsky's last symphony- we sadly slowing petered out....
Too much friendship for love. Too much love for friendship.
Also, did you know Tchaikovsky was gay? He was. In a time when it wasn't ok to be gay.
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