We should have been so much more. Now we're just a torn page in a finished book. The memories are fading, but the pain still lingers. I still smell you on my fingers. I still taste you on my tongue. Love kills slowly; a backward glance from an invisible god. I'm a bird that sings, but cannot fly. I'm the ticking of a clock. A rocking chair.
amor tardius occidit is latin for Love kills slowly