Flame fleeced.

History.
The one word that brings back ruthless, bold, unabashed flashbacks of you. And him. Or her. Or whoever. You must have loved, or you must have thought you loved. All of us do, all of us love the idea of falling in love. So getting back to the point; History.
We're often so sure about the concept of it being the past, that we often forget; once we see it staring at us in the present. You see that one face, and there, you find yourself thinking of what was. How you were, how this person staring back at you used to be, with you. You give yourself the liberty to feel appalled at how that face is the same, and yet nothing about it reminds you of the person it belongs to. Perhaps a crease or two more, on the forehead. Maybe some more impatience in them pair of eyes, than you remember. The lips could possibly be more dry, and the ears could seem naked because there isn't any hair sitting on them, hiding away their shapelessness.
And yet, you push your grounds by still considering that your faith on that face may be stronger than its appearance.

But as you blink a few more times and don't let the light leaks of your ridiculous faith blind you, you slowly realize that the face that once moved you so much is gone. The flame that burnt high and low, quivered on top but kept still to the wax...is gone. There's nothing that overwhelms you about that face anymore, there is nothing that makes you want to cry. The expression in your heart is smug. It wants to walk away, and carry on with the life you finally moved on with, in the absence of that face.
You feel like you're sitting on the other side of the window, and the only way you look at the other side is through an old, lace curtain. It flies around with the wind, letting you peek at the real thing once in a while, but it's hidden again, and it stays that way. And you realize, it's not hidden anymore, it's gone.

Flame fleeced. The remains of that blaze are nowhere to be seen around you, for they withered away with that side of you which became history, along with that person's departure in your life, once.

You realize, you slowly fell out of love. Because beyond a point, that face didn't love you back, and you couldn't love thin air, could you now? 

-Nil.