When love fails, you will stare blankly at the ceiling above your bed, decoding what went wrong. The anecdotes of his stories you didn't dig deeper for will haunt you, and what is left of those will deteriorate your heart. You will wonder where it all went -- the days when trust not misplaced, promises not empty, and clichés not yet clichés because those words had yet to be restated. Colours were vibrant and no shades of grey. His complex simplicity and the words he chose to describe you will leave scars, as they were both casually cruel and stubbornly beautiful.
When love fails, you will stare blankly at the ceiling above your bed, rewriting the story of what should have been. The trips to unfamiliar towns, the wagging tail of a husky, and its name that should have been, will indeed crumble your heart to pieces. You will remember the details of his dreams too well, only to realize the role you once held will belong to someone else someday. Because in the end you were both too proud -- too proud to let go, too proud to apologize, too proud to save your love, but proud enough to walk away. So you will say that the stories you wrote together will have to be for another time, another couple, or maybe another universe.
When love fails and the ceiling above your bed no longer speaks of the misery you reflected towards it, you will hope for his happiness and the strength to let go. Roses will be red again and violets blue, and you will consider yourself worthy of love much greater than you know. But today is not that day. Today, love failed you. Today, roses are colourless and violets not blue, and you deprive yourself of love as it is not his love you will receive. Today, you hope tomorrow will be nothing like today.