I fell out of love today

That's a sad title, but unfortunately true.

"Mr Right" came on strong in May. He was somewhat frightening in his pursuit, but it was exciting to feel like someone wanted so badly to be with me. There were a few occasions that were almost stalkerish, but became endearing. Here I stood, the epitome of a commitmentphobe, and yet this guy was so persistent.

Once I realized how wonderful he was, I had a hard time finding a comfortable place in the relationship. I've been self-sufficient for so long that I felt reluctant, or maybe just shy, when he would offer help in the daily struggles of life. He had struggles of his own, and would ask my opinion. I'm not accustomed to having someone turn to me for help. We had fantastically long conversations. I probably spoke more words to him in the first month than I have uttered to any one person in the last 3 years. He was an open book, and I found myself becoming the same. It was so flattering when at the end of the evening, I would have to pry him out the door. I actually had to declare a curfew so that I could get to bed at a decent hour. Yet day after day for the first 3 months, he was always there. There with/for coffee in the morning. There with/for dinner in the evening. And I never grew tired of his company.

I've been a loner for most of my life. I lived for and through my children, and I loved every minute of it. Of course, they're independent adults with kids of their own. It's about time I find friends in my own age bracket. And yes, the idea of finally settling down with a man has its appeal. This relationship was so unlike any I had experienced before. What could go wrong?

And then one day he didn't call. Without explanation. 2 weeks went by. And then 3. I kept asking myself what I had done wrong. It had to be my fault.

And then the texts started. "I want early morning coffee and late night movies." Seeing those words caused a physical pain in my heart, and I jumped at the chance. It wasn't the same. He was distant. He didn't say he loved me. Unless I said it first. Which I did. Over and over, hoping that it would jar something in him and bring back what we had.

And then one day he didn't call. Once again, without explanation. 2 weeks went by before I once again read "I want early morning coffee and late night movies."

I went to the movie. We have a dinner here and there. Neither of us says "I love you". I spent time today examining my feelings and found numbness. The man I met has never returned. The man I spend time with here and there is pleasant enough, but I don't love him. Maybe because he doesn't love me. I don't know where that man I loved went. I miss him. I miss loving. But most of all, I miss being loved.