Your

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November 20th, 1986

My dearest Maria,
It's been months since you've disappeared and we have yet to find you. Where have you gone? Did you leave us? Did you leave me? Forever alone with a picture of you.
I haven't forgotten your long red hair, or your eyes. God, those eyes! Eyes that could always see me in my darkest of times and never be annoyed by me. Your beautiful face. I miss your face, but I'm wanting to forget. It'll be easier to forget. Less pain. Less heartache. I miss your obsession with shopping and I miss having you tell me that crocs aren't cool. They are though.
But forget it. I'm sure you'll never get to read this and I don't really need you to. Just come back to me. Please. I don't care if you're engaged now or married. I don't care. I need you here. Let me know you're okay. Let me know that you aren't... dead.
You'll be twenty-eight in four days. I planned on proposing to you. Getting down on one knee and popping the question. I would have given you the best life I could've. I would give you chocolates and foot massages after walking in those high heel death traps you call shoes.
Maria, my love, my partner. My soulmate. I miss you. Don't be gone. I love you.
Yours always,
Noah

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