I remember the moment when my first real love died.
The relationship had been on life support for about a year. I had wanted out, but I couldn’t bring myself to say so. And then one autumn afternoon, everything ended. Even though I had wanted it to end, I felt a pain unlike anything I had ever felt. This must be a mistake. But it was over.
Years later, another love ended. There had been other loves along the way — smaller loves, maybe — but this one felt more powerful and more real than anything I’d ever felt. Things got complicated. I backed out of marrying her. She moved on. Things got messy. The pain was even more intense than the losses that had come before.
I thought there would never be anyone else. Unexpectedly, there was. It was someone I had casually known in the past. She sent me a message out of the blue. Before long, I had fallen head over heels for her. She said she loved me and wanted to marry me.
And then — suddenly — she didn’t want a future with me. There was no explanation. Not then. Not ever.
I was left feeling all alone. Missing someone I couldn’t have. More hurt than I had ever been in my life.
But despite the pain — and despite the pain that had come with the end of every love so far — all I wanted was to fall into the grips of love again.
Against all of my experience, I believed that love could finally come and stay. For me.

Public discourse is distorted by constant outrage over anecdotes
My Twitter suspension is reminder that free speech is under assault
My father’s embezzling started and ended my media company
Briefly: Living with loss of love hurts, but forgetting real love would be worse
Briefly: You have natural human rights, not ‘constitutional rights’
Briefly: Socialists and other control freaks don’t understand how wealth is created
If the state didn’t wither away for Marx and Engels, is there really a post-statist era ahead now?
It’s hard to shut off our internal chatterboxes to listen to silence
Something in us usually wants to believe next year will be different