Today I discovered that the valentines day rose I got was all dried up and dead. But yet it’s still so beautiful. Like somehow it’s beauty was preserved. Or even made more beautiful in a certain way.
It made me realise that a lost love could be beautiful in a sense. Ofcourse that would be after all the hurt and so called ‘withdrawal symptoms’ that always happen when you lose someone. But the memory will always remain. and it might even be better in your head than it actually was in real life.
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