I still can't believe we are at the last chapter of our story. You know, I used to imagine this could go further. I used to imagine a plot twist that would turn this tragic shit into something like Allie and Noah's. I was hoping one day all my letters will pile up on your coffee table and you will find your way back to me. I was hoping you'd choose me one day.
I can't believe we are at the part where the only choice I got was to move on and accept the way things ended. This isn't fiction where the author can just brush me off by telling me it's a realistic ending; that life isn't a fairytale, because I never wanted to be a Disney princess. I just wanted to be your girl.
Well, I guess a girl can only dream of part twos or sequels with happy endings, and wake up the next morning to write this.