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Summary
Dear George,
I know one day you’ll have grown too curious for your own good.
You hide away all semblances of joy, choosing to focus on nothing more than the shop. Because it hurts to do much else. We share a pain unlike any other. We’ve known a souls like any other, and we have lost it in a cruel trick of fate.
If you are reading this—I want you to know how much you mean to me.
Though my sorrow is bleeding out the pages, here is also the story of us. The story of my love for you. When you read this, I want you to burn it. Burn these pages, because I don’t need them any more.
I love you,
Angela
