The girl, the girl of your dreams. You meet her in spring, when the world is new. You love her in summer, when the world is warm. You marry her in Autumn, when the world is changing, and in Winter, she is beautiful. The snow pelts down from the heavens and the earth is covered with freshly frozen cream. She's standing before you with a warm grey coat, and chilly red hands, and a ring on her finger. You only decided to go for a walk, but it turned into a confession of love. The trees surround you as the irony hits you, girls look prettier in snowstorms.

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