I woke up one morning and the fever was gone. Suddenly, unexpectedly, with no explanation. I didn’t love her anymore.
She was gone. I accepted that, but this was more. I didn’t want her anymore. It wasn’t sour grapes. I had moped and pursued her for a couple of years. She practically begged me to. But I had given all I could give to her. I had given her every chance. Finally, the love was dead. I was drained.
It was like the breaking of a fever. One day, my heart was sick that I couldn’t have her, that she wouldn’t choose me, that she wouldn’t reverse the mistake she admitted that she had made.
And then the next day, I simply didn’t care. I don’t know how it changed. I just woke up knowing that I didn’t care anymore. The painful longing was gone. I got out of bed and casually blocked her on Facebook. It was time to cut the last remaining ties.
She never heard a word from me again, not even an explanation or a goodbye. It felt liberating.

We’re neither friends nor enemies, just strangers who share the past
‘This path leads to somewhere I think I can finally say, I’m home’
Economic Man needs no heart, because love and God are dead
What if I hadn’t been afraid to follow Paul Finebaum’s advice 20 years ago?
Missing childhood connections leave us longing for missing love
If they steal from taxpayers long enough, shoplifting seems normal
My need to win isn’t pretty, but it’s key to who I’ve always been
Love & Hope — Episode 4:
I’ve jumped off a career cliff and now I have six months to find net