"I think you knew what you had, you weren't too young, or too naive, or too blind to see. You felt it deeply, you felt it ignite your bones and light a fire in your eyes. I know, because of the way you would look at me. As if I was the cure for cancer. You would hold me as if you knew that letting me go would make me shatter like glass. You knew exactly what you had. I think that just like your favorite meal, you ate it up too quickly. It was like you jumped straight into the deep end of the water instead of starting at the shallow end. Like igniting the camp fire with gasoline instead of using sticks and twigs and newspaper scrunched up into little balls. It's like you went straight into the chorus without singing the intro. Or putting your sneakers on before your pants. Doing the test without the homework. You missed the build up, the moment before, the part right before the bomb goes off. Now the fire has burned out and ash is all that remains and only now do we realize that we should have savored the sweet moments, the build up, the moment before the climax."