Imagine a book where the author is head over heels for a girl who thinks they're just a punctuation mark in the vast novel of life. This poor author pours their heart into poetic verses, composing odes to unrequited love, while the oblivious girl remains blissfully unaware, treating the book like yesterday's leftovers in the fridge—totally forgotten.
It's a tragicomedy of epic proportions. The author is stuck in the friend zone with their own creation, like a character waiting for a plot twist that never arrives. The girl remains the unwitting muse, blissfully ignorant of her starring role in the poetic saga. The author contemplates confessing their feelings, but decides against it, probably fearing that the rejection would sting more than a paper cut from a poorly edited manuscript.
So, there you have it—an unacknowledged poet, a clueless crush, and a book that's the literary equivalent of a Shakespearean comedy, minus the wedding bells. It's a tale of unspoken words and missed connections, making readers simultaneously laugh and sigh at the absurdity of it all.
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