the most beautiful bird

I was once strolling through the park, when a bird in a tree caught my eye. She was the most beautiful bird. Feathers, brighter than the rest. Songs, sweeter than any other. She was simply amazing. I went to the bird store and bought the most beautiful cage to house the most beautiful bird. Toys and Perches, nothing but the best for the most beautiful bird. With some seed, the most beautiful bird waltzed into the cage, delighted to have a wonderful place to live. I loved the most beautiful bird with such an intensity. In her cage, the most beautiful bird was happy. In her cage, the most beautiful bird sung beautifully. She let me know that she loved me back. In time, though, the most beautiful bird longed to be free. I took care of her and loved her with all that I had, but the most beautiful bird's heart belonged in nature, frolicking from tree to tree, happy to be free. That was where the most beautiful bird wanted to be. The most beautiful bird's heart was not mine. I did not want to let the most beautiful bird go. I brought her the best food, toys, and love. Still, the most beautiful bird longed to be free. The day came where I could no longer bear to see the most beautiful bird sad anymore. I opened the door to her beautiful cage, and watched the most beautiful bird fly away. The part of me that knew the most beautiful bird deserved to be free rejoiced. Still, the part of me that loved the most beautiful bird cried.  I had never been so happy as when the most beautiful bird sung only to me. I had never been so happy as when the most beautiful bird was mine. Time has passed, and the most beautiful bird has been gone four months now. Some days, it is enough to know that the most beautiful bird is happy being free. It is enough to know that she is with her true love. Other days, I am the shadow of the man that I was with the most beautiful bird. I wish for the most beautiful bird to fly through my window to be with me once again. Some days, a part of me still thinks that the most beautiful bird will perch herself on my windowsill again. Every day, though, I know that I love the most beautiful bird. Everyday, I know that I miss the most beautiful bird.