1. you were young and it started soft, whispered love songs and stolen moments behind stacked books — barely sixteen but so sure that this was love. his lips, like sugar, your lips, like honey, too sweet and too raw but beautiful just the same. he held you like something important, and for a moment, with him, you thought maybe you were.
2. you were young and it fell apart rough, raw, heart shattered like glass when he kissed you goodbye — barely seventeen but so sure that there was no getting over this. his hands, cold, your hands, shaking, everything too red and too real. he left like it was easy, left you shaking apart and all alone, left like he had never really been there to begin with.
3. you weren’t young and it was so far from soft, all teeth and skin and longing. his mouth, hot, your mouth, pliable, waiting and ready for anything he was willing to give. and it wasn’t much, but you didn’t care, soaked him up, greedy and sure, because this time you knew it wasn’t going to last, but you fell just the same.
4. you weren’t young but it was still rough, when it ended. and you’d thought you were prepared, thought knowing it was over before it began might make it easy but god, it’d never been easy with him. his heart, still, your heart, broken, too tired and too numb to do anything more than sit, bottle clutched too tight against your chest. and you loved him, still love him, but love is not enough, sometimes, and you should have known better.
