This is a vintage copy of The Prophet, given to me by someone from my past. He recently gave it to me to try and replace the one he lost. A wise person in my life said, “Do you really want to carry that around though?”
I am no longer in the business of living in the past. So I wrote this letter, inside the book, and I plan on donating it soon.
The letter says:

"Dear future bookowner:
This is not the first letter I’ve written in a book, but I sure hope it’s the most important. 
You are holding a beautiful, vintage copy of my favorite book. I once left marks all throughout my copy. It was as precious to me as a diary. But I lent that book to a boy that did not deserve to read it. After months of a relationship without a title (and several strong doses of disappointment,) I said goodbye. Once I left, he finally decided the book was worth a shot. After seeing how beautiful the poetry was, he left it in a friend’s car. My favorite, diary of a book was lost forever. The copy you are holding is his attempt at redemption. But it is a worn copy, loved by someone else who was not me. This book is not mine.
May you remember to give that which is precious to you to those who have proven they can take care of it.
Your heart is just as important as your favorite book.
All my love,
Katelyn”

This is a vintage copy of The Prophet, given to me by someone from my past. He recently gave it to me to try and replace the one he lost. A wise person in my life said, “Do you really want to carry that around though?”

I am no longer in the business of living in the past. So I wrote this letter, inside the book, and I plan on donating it soon.

The letter says:

"Dear future bookowner:

This is not the first letter I’ve written in a book, but I sure hope it’s the most important. 

You are holding a beautiful, vintage copy of my favorite book. I once left marks all throughout my copy. It was as precious to me as a diary. But I lent that book to a boy that did not deserve to read it. After months of a relationship without a title (and several strong doses of disappointment,) I said goodbye. Once I left, he finally decided the book was worth a shot. After seeing how beautiful the poetry was, he left it in a friend’s car. My favorite, diary of a book was lost forever. The copy you are holding is his attempt at redemption. But it is a worn copy, loved by someone else who was not me. This book is not mine.

May you remember to give that which is precious to you to those who have proven they can take care of it.

Your heart is just as important as your favorite book.

All my love,

Katelyn”

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