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…the perfume is for who I “know”, who I feel to be you…it can’t be for the whole of you because you don’t show yourself, you don’t give yourself to me…not even your name, my Love…so, please stop complaining…

…yes, the perfume was for him, The Library was for him, yet all this time I “gave” it all to you… even when I had doubts… remember, my love? Because I loved what I felt, what I feel… when I think of him now, I feel “only” immense sorrow and sadness, but I don’t feel