if you were to write a book about two people who fell out of love, what would be the last sentence?

Sometimes, she looks back and wonders if they could have done anything different to cultivate what they had into a beautiful flower, but the train had already reached its final destination where they had no choice but to softly, quietly go their respective ways.
He had hoped the bright lights that danced in his vision were fireworks, meant to signify a spectacular spark of their passion, but instead, it had been a bomb — leaving violence and corpses amongst the destruction. 

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