It Happens ...
It happens.
You meet that special person, and you fall in love.
Every day, when you wake, that someone is immediately in your thoughts.
No escaping it. No matter how hard you might try, your thoughts drift that way throughout the entire day, until evening comes and you connect, in some way, with the one you love.
Happiness, your happiness, seems to be measured against those simple times when you and your loved one are together. Even should love's moods turn pesky or sour, there is always a quick reconciliation.
And then, something very different happens.
Something in the machinery of love snaps — not a fan belt exactly, more like a crackling moment of disappointment, disgust, dismay, distrust ... well, one of those d-words.
And suddenly, it's over.
"It happened in the blink of an eye," you'll say incredulously.
Sure, you might make a last-ditch effort to grab hold and bring back that first emotional context of love, but try as you might, nothing seems to work.
You and your former loved one have simply fallen out of love.
Now, some people are relatively unaffected by this tragedy, but that response is the exception to the rule. Most see the end of love as the end of the world. Uncontrolled weeping, the gnashing of teeth, waves of anger — all these now seem to be the highlights of your day. It's not a happy time, and you are definitely no longer in your happy place.
So, just what are you really feeling? I think, mostly, it's a deep sense of betrayal. Hope, trust, faithfulness, even love itself seem to have betrayed you, and you are left with that "same old bullshit" taste in your mouth. No amount of metaphorical mouthwash seems to flush that taste away.
Time passes, and you eventually manage to crawl out of the mire of despair. You "move on" — whatever that means. Inevitably, you adopt the attitude that you are "way better off without that bastard or bitch in your life."
No you're not.
You'll never be the same again.
And that, I suspect, is the hardest thing to admit.
It happens.
You meet that special person, and you fall in love.
Every day, when you wake, that someone is immediately in your thoughts.
No escaping it. No matter how hard you might try, your thoughts drift that way throughout the entire day, until evening comes and you connect, in some way, with the one you love.
Happiness, your happiness, seems to be measured against those simple times when you and your loved one are together. Even should love's moods turn pesky or sour, there is always a quick reconciliation.
And then, something very different happens.
Something in the machinery of love snaps — not a fan belt exactly, more like a crackling moment of disappointment, disgust, dismay, distrust ... well, one of those d-words.
And suddenly, it's over.
"It happened in the blink of an eye," you'll say incredulously.
Sure, you might make a last-ditch effort to grab hold and bring back that first emotional context of love, but try as you might, nothing seems to work.
You and your former loved one have simply fallen out of love.
Now, some people are relatively unaffected by this tragedy, but that response is the exception to the rule. Most see the end of love as the end of the world. Uncontrolled weeping, the gnashing of teeth, waves of anger — all these now seem to be the highlights of your day. It's not a happy time, and you are definitely no longer in your happy place.
So, just what are you really feeling? I think, mostly, it's a deep sense of betrayal. Hope, trust, faithfulness, even love itself seem to have betrayed you, and you are left with that "same old bullshit" taste in your mouth. No amount of metaphorical mouthwash seems to flush that taste away.
Time passes, and you eventually manage to crawl out of the mire of despair. You "move on" — whatever that means. Inevitably, you adopt the attitude that you are "way better off without that bastard or bitch in your life."
No you're not.
You'll never be the same again.
And that, I suspect, is the hardest thing to admit.
