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May 18, 2006
They are two, but really one. The way they hold hands when they're walking down the street, or in the privacy of his or her room. The girl is more beautiful than any other girl he's ever seen. The boy completes her in almost every way. I am happy for them, but every time I look at them, I feel this sting of jealousy and longing for what they've been blessed enough to find.

Or maybe it found them. Maybe we don't find love, but it finds us, and we're all fools for running around frantically in search of it.