Poof, gone.

       'Holding hands and walking down a vacant road, she wondered if things could get better than this moment. Could things get better than perfect? She smiled at that thought. Her dizzying happiness was her little secret.'

       Sometimes, your standing there, peering into his eyes, convinced you would do anything, fight anything not to lose him. You cannot imagine giving up on him, giving up on the one person who brought an infinite amount of happy moments. When you're smiling and playing footsie under the table hoping no one noticed, when he hears something and gives you a knowing look because there's a private joke attached, when he's sulking like an idiot and your anger is evaporating by the second, when his joke is so sad you can't stop giggling - how would you have ever imagined it would end? Even if it did end, it would be under extreme circumstances right? Something dramatic, something Romeo Juliet-y.You couldn't be more wrong, more delusional. Such things don't end dramatically, they end without even making a tiny sound.
                 

                                                                  Poof, gone.


And you're left wondering if it all actually happened or you had just created a utopia in your head. You were wrong; very, very wrong. Wrong about everything you believed. Wrong about how invincible you were together. Because it did not take even a light push to watch everything crumble right at your feet.