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Dear Rose
Dear Rose,
You’re probably wondering why I sending you a letter, me you’re best friend since middle school who texts you on the daily and could have easily just texted this to you, but I didn’t. Because what I have to say is important and i didnt have the courage to tell you this in person so here it is.
Rose Leslington, I remember the first day we met, you walked into Mr. Chang’s english with such confidence, such glamour. All eyes faced towards you; the boys stared with their jaws to the floor and the girls sneered as you brushed past them to take your seat, right next to me. I froze, I didn’t know what to say to this gorgeous girl sitting right next to me but I had to say something. My mind was racing like a chuck-e-cheese ticket blaster with tickets with random words on it and i grabbed the first four tickets and read them. “Hey, you’re pretty cool” I said. I grabbed my mouth before any more stupid shit came out of it.
At this point the Chuck-e-Cheese blaster was on full power; the tickets were flying to fast for me to grab. I turned my head to face you, expecting to see a disgusted face and a ready hand to slap me across my face, but what I saw surprised me. Instead of a disgusted face I saw a gorgeous smile. “Well thank you” you replied “whats your name?”. I couldn’t have been more relieved.
Soon enough we started talking every day in Mr. chang’s class and one day at lunch we were sitting together and I accidentally spilled milk onto my beige khakis. It looked like i had just wet myself and everybody most poking fun at me, but u were there by my side telling everyone it was milk and that they should f*** off. Ever since that day, we were inseparable.
We did everything together; we would meet every morning to have breakfast together, laugh together, and even cry together. When i’m with you, I'm not afraid of anything and feel capable of everything. Every morning when I hug you I hold on just a little longer just to hold you in my arms for as long as possible. Just to to smell the sweet scent of your your silky smooth hair. When I call you at night and talk to you for hours, I don’t want to be the first one to say goodnight or the first the hang up the phone. Even when we finally do hang up the phone, I think about you, even dream about you sometimes. I want to have breakfast with you every morning for the rest of my life Rose Leslington. I don’t want to be just best friends anymore.
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