The moment when you realize you’re in love, only after it has been lost. When it becomes clear that the only person you have loved and can imagine yourself loving has left your life forever. You had the perfect person. Not a person who is perfect, but one who fills the spaces that you leave empty and loves the spaces that you fill. You didn’t realize because you were scared, you distanced yourself, you carefully crafted a tall barrier to protect your delicate heart. You needed to be safe more than you wanted to experience love. And so it was wasted. It is the type of love that will only ever be an aftertaste, the type whose sweetness will never be enjoyed but will only be experienced with bitterness. It’s the only type of love I have ever known. It was young, naive, immature love that was brushed aside by adjectives, but now I am older, wiser, and more mature and I realize that it was real. I suppose I’ll continue to taste the bitterness until something else sweet comes along.