At one point it came all down.
His eyes were just it - eyes. Colorful like millions out there.
His smile had no special shine. It was simple, white and nothing that, if he was a stranger, would make you stop and take a real look.
His laugh was loud. And so was yours, your friends, and that stranger passing you.
The way he talked was no different than the rest. The only reason you, someday, could not stop paying attention to, was because it was him talking.
His jokes were just it. Jokes. It wasn't him who invented. Sometimes, you would already heard it and, if not, given time you would end up listening again from someone else.
When he told you his secrets, so did his friend, and his other friend. He was not the only one. Just like, he wasn't the only one who knew yours.
His looks didn't say anything about him. He wasn't the most atractive and, certainly, the whole shaking thing that you had inside of you once was not because of it. There were better looking guys right next to you.
Suddenly it was simple. He was just a guy. He was no different than the guy next door, or funnier than the boy sitting behind you in class.
What you also realised was that, all those simplicities were what had made you love him. Each one of them. And as you saw that, two years passed by, and each reason to love him, became a reason to stop loving him.
Putting all the reasons together it wasn't complicated to see past it. But, putting all the reasons together, It, also, could not get any more complicated.
Did it make any difference, after all?