romance was ignorance

It seems to me that growing up has meant the loss of romance.
Romance was…the way wild bushes grew on the slopes of the hill nearby,
The cold winter afternoons spent out on the verandah,
The long walks on hot tarmacs after games of spot-the-mirage,
Evenings spent out under the stars,
Romance was …our first kiss,
Our innocence,
The hope we gave ourselves…
Romance was… our dreams, hopes and plans…
The sweet nothings you said to me,
Romance was… talking to you without worrying where we’re going,
Knowing you’ll be by my side,
The trust we had,
Knowing that we would never hurt each other,
Romance is my memory of you and how we used to be
Your concern for me still…
The way my name sounds when you say it
Romance is you, romance is me
Romance, it seems, is a pure function of availability