finding a new love, is like finding a new favorite book and if you’re a writer or an avid reader you know what i’m talking about. you have that book that comes to your mind whenever someone asks you and you’ve been saying the same book for a long time, maybe years and you go back to read it and you become disappointed because it’s not nearly as good as you remember it being. when you read this book you were a different person with other standards and preferences but now you are reinvented and new and the things that made you see color have now turned black and white and it’s sad. but there is a sense of optimism in finding something new. to know that you’ve changed since then and things you thought you couldn’t live without no longer matter. it’s bittersweet. you were my favorite person, you made me see colors I didn’t know existed and you showed me what love was in an entirely new light. for two years I told everyone you were my favorite person I showed you off like one of my biggest accomplishments. and now, 8 months later,i’ve changed. you are no longer my cup of tea because I prefer coffee now. and I don’t see you as a piece of art because I prefer writing rather than painting. it’s nothing personal i’ll always see you as someone I once loved i’ll always see you as my old favorite book that I no longer prefer. you were the most intense fiction story and you always kept me on the edge of my seat, loving you was a never ending adrenaline, you kept me anxious and always wondering. she is poetry. she could make the dullest tree radiate the brightest colors. in a black and white world she is the drop of red paint. she takes words that had no significant meaning to me and turns them into something beautiful. she is soft and smart her words always take me by storm and knock me down in admiration and disbelief but she’s always there to help me back up and I stand taller every time because of her. I prefer poetry now, but our fiction will always have a place in my heart.