MONTROSE, CHARLOTTE. (@ofChaconne) header
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A professional yearner with a long time grief.

Taken by the hands of death.
Joined February 2017
Photo by MONTROSE, CHARLOTTE. (@ofChaconne)Photo by MONTROSE, CHARLOTTE. (@ofChaconne)Photo by MONTROSE, CHARLOTTE. (@ofChaconne)Photo by MONTROSE, CHARLOTTE. (@ofChaconne)Photo by MONTROSE, CHARLOTTE. (@ofChaconne)Photo by MONTROSE, CHARLOTTE. (@ofChaconne)Photo by MONTROSE, CHARLOTTE. (@ofChaconne)Photo by MONTROSE, CHARLOTTE. (@ofChaconne)Photo by MONTROSE, CHARLOTTE. (@ofChaconne)Photo by MONTROSE, CHARLOTTE. (@ofChaconne)
Replying to @ofChaconne
γ…€ And so, dear reader, begins the tale of π‘³π’‚π’…π’š π‘ͺ𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆—and the π‘ π‘Žπ‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘ π‘’π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ that may yet change everything. γ…€
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α… α…  There are his teeth marks on everything they love. α… α… 
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MONTROSE, CHARLOTTE. retweeted
π‚πšπ₯π₯𝐒𝐧𝐠 𝐀π₯π₯ π“π‘πž π”πŠ π‘πžπ¬π’ππžπ§π­π¬! The invitation is open to those who are British citizens and currently based in the UK. Come join us and have some fun together! If you're interested, simply reply with your birth year and the face claim you're using!
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My family has governed the Duchy of Ravenshire for generations, serving as its custodians and stewards since the Crown first granted our title centuries ago. The current Duke of Ravenshire is my grandfather, His Grace Reginald Montrose, the 14th Duke of Ravenshire.
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I’d be delighted if you would have me. ( as a side note, I’m using Shen Xiaoting as my muse, and I’m born in 2000 )
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Perhaps, had you loved me less, you would never have uttered those dreadful words that marked the end of us. For it seems to me that only a great love could bear such a sacrifice.
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And perhaps, if your love had been lesser, this parting would have been kinder to you. Perhaps it would have been kinder to us both.
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I have never possessed any great talent for farewells. No matter how often I have endured them, nor how fervently I have sought to persuade myself that I am accustomed to their cruelty.
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Yet this, 𝘡𝘩π˜ͺ𝘴, is a sorrow unlike any I have ever known. He did not take merely a fragment of me when he left. He carried away half of my soul itself, leaving behind a wound so vast and desolate that I scarcely recognise the person who remains.
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And now I am left to wonder whether I shall ever again know the comfort of feeling whole, or if I am destined to wander this life forever incomplete.
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