iv.

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My dear,

You ask me if we're forever, and I say no. Our love is not eternal, because eternity is so fundamentally meaningless. For something to be eternal is for it to lose the wonder of mortality; our love, my darling, is trapped and savoured in the glass constructs of our timeline. I couldn't stand for us to be eternal, to be forever; I couldn't stand for anyone to see you less lovely because of it. Wondrous shivering and an unbearable sense of being frightened by yourself is only for bodies that are dying. So we shall die, and our love shall die, and our splendour will be but a sacred thing held between the palms of our hands. The world will not remember us, but so long as I kiss you enough it shall have been worth it.

Sweetly, always,
josie

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