He wrote 37 love letters and never sent a single one.
He spent seven years perfectly recreating her citrus scent, then finally worked up the courage to confess.
But she gave him the clearest, most final rejection: It was all too late.
For the next seven years, he kept trying to figure out how to forget her.
And for the seven years after that, his chemical imprint was always present in her architectural designs.
Between them,
the first seven years were spent secretly loving,
the second seven years remembering,
and they were forever just a little short of the courage to begin.
