I asked how I might know when it was over.

They said, "When you love the memory more than the person standing in front of you."

Then you came to find me, said you wanted to talk.

I remembered us. The boat, the pool, the lake, the fires, the bikes, the dances, the singing, the running, the library, the laughter, the pictures, the kitchen, the park, the hikes, the camping, the movies, the books, the music, the truck, the thousand kisses, and everything else came rushing back.

I looked at you standing in front of me and I thought about the memories.

It was then that I knew it was over.