There she was, sitting in her bedroom doodling on something. She's trying to get inspiration on the pictures she saw earlier that morning. "hmmmm." She sighed as she looked at them for the 100th time that afternoon. She finally picked her pen up and wrote:
He's perfect. He's a dream.... There's only one thing wrong. He's not mine.
At the thought, she got up and smiled weakly for her sake.
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