Love hurts.
I found this out a while ago, but never truly realized it.
I loved him more passionately than I knew I could. And even though I was only seventeen, it hurt so bad.
I watched him fall in love with someone else, gave him advice when he needed it, and was there when his heart was broken.
When I had my chance to be with him, I kissed him with a fervor that was long overdo, but past its expiration date. The ferocity that I submitted belied my true feelings. It was like pouring a glass of soda, then waiting for all the carbonation to fizzle out before you drink it. Yet, still expecting it to taste the same.
It struck me, and I didn't know what to do. I spent ten years caring so much for him. Now, even though I care, and a part of my heart still loves him, I don't want to be with him anymore. My soda has lost its bubbles, and it just doesn't taste right anymore.