the proffessor was teaching.she was sitting on the last row .I turned back…and handed her a Note.and that was the time we started sharing everthing
.
we were the best three ever

me..Bahar..and Narsis.I was called the english girl..Bahar was called.the trendy girl…and she was called..”the boook worm”..as she was always reading sth
we were the best three ever
and then we graduated..all 3 together..and a year.after ..I got married…Bahar and Narsis came to my house and brought me a wedding present…
and the next year..Bahar got married… so narsis and I went to her house and brought her a wedding present

yes..we were definetly the best three ever
and ….this Year..tonight..when I called her to give her the address for tomorrow gathering..her mom said she was not there.I mean..she was not there at all..I mean she is no where now.she is somewhere that noone knows.she is dead.is she?..what about our tomorrow gathering???..what about our ten friends who are coming tomorrow?..what about us?..werent we the best three???..werent we supposed to stay for ever?..how about her wedding??..she brought us wedding gift ..in our house,,but where should we go now?..what should we buy her.God..why her?..she was one of us..she was one of the best 3…she was my friend.she was my best,,,she was my sister.how should Bahar and I go somewhere without her,how can we forget about her shiny eyes
we were not the best…..but she was
love u
miss u soooooooooooooooooo much
miss ur smile

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  1. ناشناس

    [ بدون نام ] *** من پشت زمان بودم تو نبودی. *** خودم هم بعد از کامنتت دوباره خوندم اش و…دوباره …
    raoof *** p b u hif god wish she is in paradise near the best and you think about this :you and all of us ought to go sobe glad cause soon you will be with each otherby the way come and visit my web lograoof.blogsky.comRain ***
    سین الف *** آخ ، فریدا آخ… خوندم و خوندم تا به این پست رسیدم…لعنت به این اسمایلی اشک که کیوت و سوییت و اینهاست ، اشک های من الان اسیدی و تلخ اند. ***
    سین الف *** خودم هم بعد از کامنتت دوباره خوندم اش و…دوباره … ***
    *** Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circling flight. I am the soft starlight at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die. ***

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