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  • I remember being damn nervous the day I met you. Probably because I was already fascinated by you, even when I hadn't seen you yet, but your texts and words had me already. That day I was totally insecure of me, my looks and everything that was going on. I was even drunk, a little bit. When you walked into that cafeteria, with a smile on your face I lost all sense of decorum. Now that I think about it, I might have been a little shameless.

    Nonetheless, it all worked out as it was supposed to and according to my plan, your plan and Mayra's plan.

    We were meant to meet. There, that day. I was meant to think of you for the rest of the subsequent days, conspiring and finding an excuse to see you. You were looking for it too.

    We were meant to have those encounters in the library, you were meant to read me passages of books I loved or was meant to love, I was meant to write you letters and I was meant to inspire you to start doing so.

    We were meant to run chasing each other though the 7th avenue, I was meant to make you laugh with my ideas of paper flying of exploding buildings and steal a kiss from you in the windy corner in the 32 with 7th. You were meant to talk about Chopin, we were meant to have a cat named Chomsky. You were meant to be my favorite musician and someone who inspired me deeply and I was meant to... do something for you, I still don't know what it was but I did. I hope I did.

    We were meant to love each other and we did, for the time we could and we were meant to. And even when now, all that love is gone, we barely speak or know about each other, I still cherish the memory of those days as one of the happiest, for the rest of my life.

    You were meant to be my first love and you did greatly. I thank you for that, among other stuff.
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