I write about my life and life itself seen through my eyes for who can write through the experiences of others if not their own?

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

My Love. My Life.

I was too young for love. Too young to understand true love only comes once in a life time.
I don’t know if he was handsome, I don’t think it matters. I know I loved him, I loved him more than I thought it was possible, more than I would ever love again.
He loved me, too. I hope that he did.  And as years passed, I realized he was the love of my life. I never loved that way again.
Our lives went on separate paths because such is life sometimes. Life went on, we made our choices. I loved again, he did too, more frequently than I did. I was happy, I don't know if he was. It was different for both of us. One thing was the same, in the distance we remembered one another sweetly, fondly.  
His hair is gray now, his smile sweet.  I’ve had more battles. I smile the same. Much has changed. I don’t love him still, not with the force I once did. Perhaps he doesn't either, not with the force he once did. I don’t want to find out, it doesn't matter either way. I only know that one thing remains the same, he never loved that way again. Neither did I.