I Wasn’t Finished Loving You

It was the definition of a whirlwind (used in similes and metaphors to describe a very energetic or tumultuous person or process.)

I was experiencing these fluffy, magical feelings for the first time in my entire life, and I was enjoying it. I felt like I was becoming this person who was capable of loving something or someone. It was a growing experience, which I wanted to continue.

But life happens, and sometimes journeys end. As much as I thought I knew you, I didn’t know what you were feeling. I didn’t know if I was just another girl to you, or if your feelings were growing equally as fast as mine were. And honestly, I still don’t know.

I don’t know what you do anymore, or really anything about you. We don’t speak and at this point you’re just a memory. But I would be lying if I said that the memory of you didn’t pop into my thoughts daily.

It’s weird when communication just stops.  It’s weird how your surroundings can act as such a convenience, and once you’re removed from those surroundings you’re removed from the time.

And that’s the sucky part.

It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen you. Here I am, looking for answers, looking to fill a void that I don’t think you know you’re responsible for.

And all though I’ve run out of stories to tell about you, I just need you to know that you are still responsible for the heart hiccups I get when I think about you, and how you made me feel.