I wish I could remember what love felt like.
I know it won't feel the same as when I was a teenager, and I don't know why.

Well maybe I do-
maybe it was because of him. Or maybe it's just the 'thing' that's started when I turned 18 where nothing felt the same as it did when I was younger-
Christmas losing its wonder, me crying as I aged on my birthdays.

I'm terrified of the feeling of butterflies. Looking back now I wonder if they were really excitement or anxiety.
Always wondering if he would leave me at the end the night with the kiss on my lips or with my pillow tear stained.

Leaving me in the mental age of 16 was so utterly cruel, as I still naively wished for whirlwind romances and a white knight to save me.
Because if I become my real age, I will have to catch up in time and remember all the ways he mentally ruined me.
Leaving all my imagination in the past, since 20 year old me doesn't believe in anything anymore.
He will have the option to age,
to mature (although I know he won't) past the age when he hurt me
but he stole the opportunity to move on from me.

Maybe I don't want to remember what love feels like, it would ruin the idealism I have of it in my head.