It felt like dark chocolate.
It felt like sweet smiles.
It felt like my favorite laugh.
It felt like being loved, but unable to return the favor.
It felt like a place to crash. And hug. And cuddle.
It felt like comfort. Though at times, anxiousness.
It felt like a strong force, making me fall even at times when I shouldn't.
It felt like hurricane.
It felt like dark rose, tempting me to embrace my cravings of oh sweet sin.
It felt like its thorns, even though I never cared about the sting.
It felt warm. And cold at the same time.
It felt like dark gray, with a hint of white that I always tried to bring out.
It felt like rum and bitter wine.
It felt like loving, but not having the favor returned.
It felt like I was gonna give it all.
It felt like Gabrielle Aplin. Singing about love and feeling home.
It felt like Frances. Giving a hint of goodbye and readiness to let go.
It felt like happiness.
It felt a lot like sadness.
It felt like loneliness.
.
.
.
.
.
It felt like love.
But it wasn't.

It is all over.
And it is time to put all this behind us.
Close the book.
Never to open. Nor tempted look at it ever again.