I'm writing this about a different friend of mine.

The reason he's different is that he can't hear me, but he listens to me. He can't see me, but he sees me. He can't sing, but he sings with me. Who is he? He's my guitar. He's a very special friend. He's with me in my happiness and my sadness, sharing my feelings. Even though I study dance as a subject, I turned to music because of him. So he's very different. Here's a photo I took with him. šŸ˜šŸ’—.


So are we beautiful? šŸ¤­ I took a beautiful photo of her one day. Here it is.


At one point, he couldn't stand my crazy behavior. No matter what, he loves me just like I do, and he makes me happy by being by my side. Even if he can't say he loves me, he probably loves me too.šŸ„°šŸ’—

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