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At first:
Our love was big.
It was so big that
Our love was the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with.
Our love was weak.
It was so weak that
The slightest of winds blew it down.
Our love was imperfect.
It was so imperfect that
You thrust it carelessly into another girl.
Our love was toxic.
It was so toxic that
It burnt my mind to think it would last.
Our love was ugly.
It was so ugly that
I hardly ever looked back at it.
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Then through the difficulty:
Our love became something.
Our love became something good.
It became so good that
It left me happy.
Our love became strong.
It became so strong that
I felt it could lift mountains.
Our love became perfect.
It became so perfect that
Nothing could tarnish it.
Our love became pure.
It became so pure that
It made white look dirty.
Our love became pretty.
It became so pretty that
Other people envied it.
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Then our love became a cycle,
It repeated once or twice...
Hell, it repeated one million times.
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Our love ended abruptly.
It ended so abruptly that
We were not ready.
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I'm sorry to our love.
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