Love memoirs

Ideal was it?

Ideal was it? That was the word you used. Too generic i suppose to describe an uncertain situation such as love. Well, Why rephrase now? Shouldnt you have thought about a more proper name before? So..
When did you stop seeing through her? What changed? Did her eyes tell less? Or were your words far from indulging?
Did the spark get so tame that you found ash instead? What made you so certain in the first place? How could you promise a person the same feeling and the same level of appreciation for an undefined time. What gives you the power to overwhelm the logic you both had by such fragile surfaces. Where did it all go?
Then again, few things ever make sense so enough with the questions. Lets reverse and maybe how it begins is all it takes. To surrender your imagination to a wild rampage of emotions is beautiful, but to surrender yourself into another person is hope, it is determination and the core of infatuation. To give your self to her is need, it is urgency and terror. It is connecting your path with hers; whatever and however the collision happens, you have locked her into you.
What happens if you keep that in mind all the time?
Would her eyes need to say more ? Or would that collision have said it all to begin with…

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