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Until now I always thought I would honor somebody if I would promise not to make them immortal. To not write about them, not to wrap them in words of velvet and satin. To leave them to their humanity and facets and the radiated emotions only for me to see and for time to remember.
That might change.... I think to value someone enough means to write enough about them to cover all their faces. Since that is impossible and a life-filling adventure, there might linger the essence of immortality. It might be selfish of me.
In the end I mean to say,
It is not the writing or the not writing which is important.
It’s important how often and much you write about them.
My love,
I hope to always be near enough to watch the small smile curl your lips and tug at the cheek of yours and I want to watch as color floods into your cheeks. They turn pink when you catch me staring and lovely, lovely red when I catch you.