Slow and steady; that’s how I thought of love to be and I stood with it, refusing to open my eyes to any other type of development in this “love”.  People had tried to tell me, tried to persuade me, that there were different ways to love and that I shouldn’t be so hung up on one type. I didn’t mind them.

I was stubborn and yes I admit. Now I know that I should’ve probably at least took their advice in consideration.

It’s ironic really, for someone like me who claimed love to be caring and sweet- melting slowly like pure snow- to be the one who took the relationship by its reins and whipped at it so hard that before I knew it, everything was over; the ride was done.

We were over and I never expected it to hurt so badly.

I never expected to feel anything more for her, but I guess I second guessed myself too early.

Everything we shared, the memories, flashed by my eyes in a blur of darkening colors and I was sure that pretty soon, I’d crumble from the dizziness that flooded my head. I had rushed it; fast and careless.

Was it hurt? Or was it just the sight I seeing her everywhere I go that was driving me to near insanity?

Slow and steady; I should’ve been more careful.

But then again, love was unpredictable.

I should’ve been prepared.