Promises are a tedious uncertain thing, even though the very nature of a promise is the security that it will not falter.
They are made in trust and formed in steel.
We are taught from an early age that promises are not to be broken. As children they were often kept, as teens they are most often broken, and by adults, promises mean next to nothing.
But to lovers, promises are things of gold, promises are dew drop kisses and small hearts doodled absentmindedly next to names, they are what relationships are born of. The promise to care about each other to tell each other their secrets, share time with the other, love them and to simply even be with them.
Sadly these are easily broken, people drift apart, feel like they can’t talk to the other person, they get too busy, fall out of love and don’t want to try to make it work. And then, the relationship ends, the star-crossed lovers took off and crashed into the ground, got up, and walked away.
Some things are meant to be, and some things are not. I believe that we were meant to be, but you did not.
Promises don’t guarantee s***.