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?

Trump bringing Marxism to U.S. better than Marx could’ve hoped
Caine’s Arcade: Watch a 9-year-old boy have the best day of his life
The things you do in life are largely determined by who you decide to be
Corruption trial prosecutor wrong: Power is for sale to highest bidder
Trip to Memory Lane reminds me some relationships deserve to die
What really matters in life? Hardly any of the things we worry about
What if emotional baggage we carry isn’t really our core issue?
Years later, my heart still fears hearing, ‘Who moved my belt?!’