As spring began to bloom on Melrose Avenue, 567th Street, she found herself revisiting her first and most profound agony in depths etched into her soul's enduring genuineness. Outwardly an odds, she has to engulf her love remain untold, has to be forgotten. So on, as halfway witnessed her uncharted love dismantled into pieces of grieves. Whilst she marked the end by anointing herself a hapless defeatist. Ad infinitum, she grasps that he'll never perceive her the way she does him; "My great, lost love."