I see your number scribbled in the corner of my papers; in your careless handwriting (I remember how you admired mine, �so pretty and artistic�). I might call it, and I know I shall see you again; I shall even seek you out if I must for you intrigue me and I do so dearly need a friend.
But when my eyes sparkle (kindle even!) as I gaze intently into your eyes, when my smile beams like the very sunshine, when my voice grows melodic and clear and true; do not flatter yourself to think that you cause this stir within me.
Did you catch the rune on my hand? Faded it was today, but still you must have noticed it. That rune is not meaningless, gibberish. That rune marks something so dear and important to me. Its very inspiration is what lights up my face. Oh! The inspiration of that rune! He, yes he is the spring in my step, the throb of my heart, the shimmer of my smile.
You will never come close to my heart. You cannot step foot in that sphere if that should ever be what you desire. All of it, all of my passionate heart is gathered away, entwined with another. That lovely sphere is reserved for My Sunshine, alone.