and yet filled with so much light ; if ever I have the luck to read your story , I ’ ll write a sentence or two , changing our ending into your beginning . Until that day , I will write rivers , cities , worlds . I will write my story , the story that began when we first became islands to each other , a story that you may read someday or that you may not ; I will write paths before me , and if there are none I will write them into existence and when my tears mix with ink , I will dip my quill into the river streaking its way across the page and continue my story .
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