I have fallen in love two times in my life. One lasted two years, the other four. I love them still, for being the people I loved. But I don’t love them as someone to marry, or share my everyday with. I did, I actually imagined we’re gonna marry someday, but things change, love fell apart, and I realized that they are not deserving for my love. I once felt the rush, the swelling happiness of falling in love, I also wrote poems because I am in love, cried at nights, but I have accepted that I won’t be feeling that way soon, or ever again. And it’s okay, because no matter how many times you fell in love, what matters is that, you did.
You loved, you learned, and you still live.