#rens

falling out of love will never feel that dramatic or grandeur. falling out of love feels so subtle yet painful — it has the exact same feeling of when you were just a kid, trying to keep the water on the palm of your hand even though it will ran out, eventually.

it doesn’t feel that sad — because you know it’s coming. when someone who used to light up even for the simplest thing that you do, they now just sit down with gray clouds covering up their head.

it is when you cook them their favorite dish and they no longer smile as wide as the first time you both did. or when you brought home flowers for your long empty vase and they no longer ask you, “Why didn’t you take me go flower-shopping?”

and when the time has finally come it is when you both finally decided that walking along together in different paths might be the best because none of you can feel the sparks anymore. (even though you know, going separate paths means one day you both will eventually drift away from each other.)

“I’ll watch you,” they’d say. and to that you’ll answer, “I’m watching you, too. hope we’re both okay walking down our own paths.”

may we cross paths again one day was something that the both of you would want to tell to each other, but never did came out because you know: the two of you had marvelous time together and that itself was enough.

falling out of love will never feel dramatic or grandeur.

it might leave you thinking during the rainy days and you are drinking a cup of tea with his favorite mug, gazing out the window through the storm hoping you’d see them running back to you.