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You can't run from the inevitable and I guess this was inevitable but that doesn't mean it hurts any less. I couldn't see him, talk to him or even ask about him. What I could do was write, so I wrote him letters. Letters that had my heart and soul into each and every one, hoping that he would feel the love through the paper. Because that boy deserves the world and I could no longer give it to him. However, I could give him this and so the words I gave to him, no matter how inadequate they were, are my gift to him.