film takes

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dear l.t...

your portraits are all over the apartment, I sit among them, staring at them with lonely eyes, only wishing that you come through the door taking back your words. only I know you wouldn't.

I admit, I'm in some sort of denial... a part of me still wants you — it craves you constantly, and it is this part that it's slowing me down.

I continuously can only try my best to remember your warmth, how your body would feel against mine, your every expression; be it happy, sad or angry, and many more.

and the memories of us are breaking on me ever so painfully, why do I continue to ask for you when I shouldn't? I know it's just the loneliness.

the wanting of another human being. but that other being needs to be you, I wonder why.

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