How does one fall in love?
Can it be spontaneous? Between friends that never realized their subtle glances to one another until it's too late?
Does fate really play with the deceiving timing?
All these questions buzz around my mind like a busy bee and yet, here I am, thinking of you. Always.
Tell me, Birdie, how did the idea of love evolve? Did someone just decide one day that they love another and would do so much for them to prove it? I would for you...
Birdie, tell me, do people have a choice with who they love? Is that why someone can go from loving someone one week to another the following week? I never could with you...
Tell me- tell me, my sweet Birdie, will you love me someday like I love you?
Yes, I love you. And I'll shout it off the mountain tops, listening to the echo of my promise, waiting for it to reach your ears. Trusting the light breeze to deliver it to you.
Love is crazy, Birdie, and I knew the second I laid eyes on you that one day you will be the sugar to my tea. The spotlight to my stage. Oh, how I love my tea and plays- just about as much as I do you.
I love you, my sweet Birdie. And I'll always be waiting for you. For your love.
Always and eternally,
my little Birdie.
(A book consisting of letters)
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