The end of an era

I always figured that love would be what I imagined. I thought I'd never know the pain that came with the deepest emotions. I thought wrong. Love was what either lifted you up or ultimately killed you, or maybe both. Walking down memory lane, I can recall holding her hands down the plains. We offered the world so many memories. We chased each other down the slopes and lay down on the grass. We searched for the slightest opportunities to kiss without giving our feelings away. We failed every time: There were always kids giggling as we kissed in the confines of the long grasses or elderly people coughing and sighing. We never really felt threatened because it all felt so right and real. It was the first time I thought of forever and dreamt of perfection. For five years nothing ever felt as good. We never fought in person, we had better things to do.

Maybe technology is to blame. Maybe the instant messages throughout space were the reason nothing ever works. So on one fateful September night you stopped believing in forever. And that one night I started believing in the notion of fate and destiny. We were still on our different worlds. You were singing and I was trying to be funny. You were falling in love and I was running from reality. We were splitting. We were a million miles away and it stopped feeling real. The flames were burning off in a forever kind of love. We tried to rekindle the spark that related us to Romeo and Juliet. But we were forcing eternity on a dying candle. It was the end of an era...