I've heard and read this story over a thousand times.
Two kids at the age of 14 falling in love and calling each other "mine."
Two years later and things aren't set so well.
What felt like heaven morphed into a darker hell.
"How silly of these two to believe in young love.
How ignorant of the girl to put the boy above."
I repeat those words as I continue to read.
Sympathizing what the boy wanted and what the girl felt she needs.

I've since then fell in and out of him.
I lived the story, my mind now dim.
We believed in young love.
I put him above.

I read the same book I read before.
Sympathy became empathy, and I read more.
Every bit of the story sounds familiar.
Reaching the ending drives me crazier.

They always say an old relationship has the same ending.
Rusty trust, salty tears, and repenting.
They say an old love is like rereading the same book.
You know what happens, yet you're still hooked.
"Stop going back, it ends the same, trust me."
But I've always been a fan of painful tragedies.