I was sixteen.
When you're sixteen you believe the whole world will bow down to you. You know for a fact that your boyfriend will stay with you forever. You have the world by the tail.
And you think it will all last.
You haven't decided if you actually believe in God, or if you believe in anything at all. You base your happiness on the last good grade, the last phone call from admirers, the last day at the swimming pool with friends.
And you think all of it will last forever.
But then life takes over. You grow, maybe not physically, but certainly mentally. You find that everything does not revolve around the last date, the last kiss, the last coupling. You find that people change, beliefs change, and what's more, you change.
You mature into a person with regrets as well as joys. You feel more, hurt more, love more.
And you come to the realization that nothing lasts forever.
Nothing, that is, except the love. To that, there is no end.
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