For a very long time, I wondered how this would end. Would there be a dramatic climax? Or would love just slowly and quietly die from lack of tending?
It’s hard to even know what to call it anymore. It hasn’t been a relationship for a long time. It was a hope. Fondest dream. Futile faith in what a love might be? Fantasy, maybe?
Of all the things I imagined for seven years or so, I never imagined that it could end as sour grapes. But now that the hurt of lost love has faded into vague resentment instead, I can’t help but think, “I wouldn’t have wanted her anyway.”
I laugh bitterly at myself and wonder whether I tried to fool myself for years or if I’ve been trying to fool myself more recently. I’m not sure I would know when I’ve been most honest with myself — then or now — much less what was really best for all involved.
All I can do is point to Aesop’s fable called, “The Fox and the Grapes.” Do you remember the story?

If you believe watching porn won’t hurt anyone, you’re wrong
AUDIO: I might not love you if I don’t imagine that you’re perfect
Childhood programming trains us to wait for authority’s permission
Global warming or a new ice age? Anyone who claims to know is lying
The free market: It’s not just for greedy, rich white capitalists
If principles of First Amendment still apply, principles of Second do, too
Romantic interest no easier now than it was for me in sixth grade
Tuesday’s Senate vote reminds me of German ‘Enabling Act’ of 1933
Foolish pride often keeps us from having what we need most in life