Well, being a strong person who understand what's best for herself and acts accordingly, independent of her feelings is, overall, a nightmare. Several months of crying, looking for the now infamous name every time I checked my email, hoping it was him calling whenever the phone rang, staring at his picture, and, of course, dreaming about him, all left me emotionally destitute. Like some other things, you have to hit bottom before you can make your way back up. I think I'm past the downward spiral, thank the gods. Life is not so meaningless or so hopeless without him, and I can actually look forward to getting over him. For a long time I was jealous of my feelings and memories and held them very dear, constantly aggravating them and bringing them to mind. Why? I asked myself that all the time. It didn't do any good, didn't accomplish anything other than to refresh my own misery. Maybe I like to be miserable. Maybe it's preferable to feeling nothing for anyone. Maybe it's easier to think about a broken heart than loneliness. But even when we were together I still felt lonely. Together but separate.

I'm on the mend. I love him, but I no longer dwell on the unfairness of the situation, of how much I love him without the love being returned, questioning and wanting to know why he didn't love me, if there was anything I'd said or done to prevent it, or if there was anything I could say or do to make it happen. That's all gone. I love him. He doesn't love me. I've been here before, and I recovered. And I always met someone else. I'm not ready to think about that yet for myself, though. Now I know he's part of my past, and not my future. He wasn't meant for me, he wasn't sent to save me. He's just a guy who saw an opportunity and took it, and I'm a girl who thought it was more than it really was. I have fond memories, and they will never fade. I have learned an important lesson - opportunists abound in the world of love and romance. I can avoid them, but I have to do a few things differently, and I intend to.