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  • She is packing up her house; she's sold it and is leaving town.
    She says she doesn't want me to come by (after inviting me) because she doesn't want to hurt me.
    I suspect this is bullshit.
    It sounds like bullshit, anyway.

    It's not that she wants to hurt me, of course.
    I'm starting to suspect that she's hurting about me more than she wants to admit, that there is uneasiness despite unrelenting outward optimism. I suspect the reason she doesn't want to see me is because there is some sort of conflict within.
    This is irrelevant, really; impossible to know, and dangerous to project onto another.

    She's now a little cagey with me, and navigating that series of obstacles doesn't hold any interest for me.
    Knowing the truth doesn't seem worth the pain of vivisecting her, which I have proven capable of doing in the past.

    She'd told me she loved me, told me of beautiful futures, specifically told me to remember what that moment felt like ("Destiny," she said).
    She pulled the rug out on me in what seemed like the very next breath. The next time we spoke, she said she'd fallen in love while traveling, separated her path from mine. She loved another and was getting out of town with and for him.

    All this I came to grips with startlingly quickly.

    It's fucking weird, to be honest. I feel like I should be balled up in a corner or cutting myself or acting out in some way. But there's none of that, either.
    Her actions don't affect me any more. Seeing her doesn't bring up a wellspring of emotions. There has been no desire to beg for her to reconsider, no desire to state my case in a new and better way, to make the attempt to talk her back into love with me. There's no anger.
    I told her that I hope she's right about this new love. I wanted her to be happy before I believed she was mine, during that belief, and after I believed it is no different.
    But even if (especially if?) she's not right about this, I've disenfranchised her.
    She has no vote in my serenity. Where I once saw the path as ours, I now see it as mine alone.
    Frankly, I like it better this way.
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