I’m a dreamer. For as long as I can remember I have colored my world with pastel pinks and shimmering turquoise whenever I had the chance. If you look around my room you’ll see bouquets of dried roses that still glisten in golden hues tipped with scarlet and dozens of pure crimson blooms that hang in frozen remembrance of the dazed smiles they once etched onto my face. Rose-tinged cheeks peer through the light layer of dust on an array of picture frames that adorn every shelf. Yeah, I’m completely hopeless

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