the fifth letter

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My dearest Perrie,

Am I allowed to look at her like that?
Could it be wrong, when she's just so nice to look at?

She smells like lemongrass and sleep
You would find her in a Polaroid picture and she means absolutely everything to me.

I'd never tell; I'd never say a word. I couldn't tell her. And oh it aches but it feels oddly good to hurt?

I think I'll be okay admiring her from afar, because even when she's next to me we could not be more far apart.
She makes me feel like a warm drink on a winters day, like the familiar smell of home after you return from your trip. But to her, I feel like nothing at all.

She means everything to me.

Forever yours,
Jade

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