SoyBooru
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liar
No way literally,
I wasn't replying to your message about her cleavage
Asking for a freind
It's coal.
@Chud: we been knew that
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor
My Dearest Bridget,
==There are moments when words feel too small for what the heart holds, yet I find myself compelled to write to you - because silence would be a greater burden than vulnerability.
Every thought of you moves through me like a quiet melody, one that begins softly but grows until it fills every corner of my being. Your name, Bridget, feels like sunlight - warm, gentle, and alive - a word that makes even the simplest day bloom into meaning.
I've watched how your presence changes the air, how even your silence has poetry, how a single glance from you can turn doubt into peace. You've become the rhythm behind my calm, the reason my heart beats with something brighter than hope.
So I write not just to confess, but to invite - to ask if I may stand by your side, to know you not from afar but as someone trusted with your laughter, your dreams, your quiet nights.
If love is a garden, then let mine be yours to walk through. Every word I write, every breath I take, carries your name in its echo.
With all my tenderness,
trevor