I am planing to re-write by hand, but can you give me your opinion on this one ? thanks
Love lasts forever, and I don’t see the day when mine will ever stop.
My undying love for you shall never meet an end, for I haven’t met true love yet.
I cannot not tell it.
It hurts, day after day, seeing you but not felling you.
It Hurts so much to imagine the imaginable, that it shall never happen, that one day our path will just go different ways, and that it will be all.
Lost forever.
It hurts so much to lose faith and abandon to desolation and despair.
To consider your inferiority, your futility, ridiculosity.
I cannot say precisely how huge, how deep, how passionate my love is.
My heart pounds when I look at you, your magnificent blonde hair, your cute little smile, your attitude, your classy style, all the adjective that define you.
Something truly happened to you last year, and I can’t put a name on it.
One day you were ordinary, the other extraordinary.
It’s like a resistance broke in my body, and I can’t repair it myself.
It need the one who broke it to be repaired.
After last year non-event, I just thought it was a brief love, but I then realized It wasn’t one at all.
It was a love made to stay with me my all life, as part of my identity.
You are my true and only love, be it for your likening or not.
Why come back at it now ?
Hasn’t it been one year since ?
Believe it or not, This death-defying love for you has never stopped, be it for a second.
I don’t know if you ever felt that for anyone, it's a felling that emboldens you to imagine, to believe, even though it is likely impossible. It makes everything at hand reach, and at the same time so far away.
But even if it is indeed impossible, I would have dared say it out loud, on this piece of paper. I would have no more regrets anymore.
True, I do not know about your felling, expect the apparent a probable real indifference towards me. Let me prove my love to you.
Let me prove myself as who I am now, not as I was before.
Let me prove I have changed from last year, still a kid, still impatient, juvenile, immature.
I am not this kid anymore, or at least I believe I am not.
I think that’s all.
Love,
Not so anonymous admirer