We were in love here.

We were in love here when we met at an abandoned building and got chased by cops.

We were in love here when he told me his favorite color was blue

We were in love here when he told me he would die for me.

We were in love here when he kissed me on the forehead. When he told me everything would be okay.

We were in love when he asked me to be his wife.

We were in love when we bought a dog together and named him scruff.

We were in love when he asked me to move in with him and start a family.

We were in love when we had our baby girl.

We were in a tight situation, breaking loose of our love.

We were in a rough patch as our baby girl fell ill and was dying.

We were in a hole, as our daughter slowly died, burying her at the age of 3.

We were dead.

We were gone, never to return to the same people.

We were no more, out love gone and dead along with our daughter.

We lost out love for each other.

We broke up, living alone for the first time in a while.

We found each other, but in the end, we were both left lost in a big lost world.

I lost him.

I loved him.

I died with her.

I went back to the same abandoned building we went to together, only to enshrine my love on the only blank wall in the building.

In big black paint I wrote the words I wishj I didn’t have to, wishing I would replace “were with “are”

“We were in love here.”