Falling Out of Love Slowly, But Surely

In the heart of London, as the cold winter breeze swept through Hyde Park, I found myself sitting on a frozen bench, my gaze lost in the skeletal winter trees. I was waiting for her, my Rose, but with a heavy heart, knowing that our love was wilting just like the roses in the park.

Our love story was the stuff of fairy tales. We met during a rainy afternoon in the bustling streets of Portobello Market. Her laughter was like a melody amidst the clamour, and her warm hazel eyes held a spark that ignited a flame in my heart. But lately, the laughter had faded, and the spark in her eyes had been replaced by a dull weariness. The woman I had fallen in love with was slowly slipping away from me.