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i don't know what the big deal is. there is no one like my love. he is like i went shopping for a nice warm bedspread and had a particular kind in mind, but i had happened to touch, feel, and enjoy the fabric of a different kind i saw, and upon taking it home, had realized it actually had everything i had originally been looking for but better because it came wrapped in something new to me that i had never laid my eyes on before. no one compares to the wonderful spread that might as well have been made for me for all the new textures, softness, and rough binding i could spend forever exploring and learning about. it is one of a kind to me and there is no one like my lovely spread. it is ridiculous to me that he might think anyone else might come even close to the comfort I feel with him, my lovely spread.
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