The love we used to have reminds me of the bottle. It was so new, unused and pure, it was full; but day-by-day it would diminish. Yes, I tried my best to never use it up, to preserve every ounce of it, but it didn't really matter because sooner or later it would have to be used.
I’d celebrate the end, but this is my beginning, that is if I embrace the freedom, but I'm scared like the beautifully crying tulips. I’m beginning to drain, like the perfume bottle Forever and ever you gave me. The bottle lied and we both believed it. I shall smile, and wonder how long each beauty can exist before it is destined to fade. I will watch beauty in decay but I wont stop hoping, I'm setting my self up for disaster. A beautiful agonising disaster. I'm ready.
What I am really trying to say, things that are beautiful will generally fade, therefor you must capture and embrace that moment and make the most of it before it is gone.