On Love: the growing old, the ebb and flow, the come and go

I'm going through the strangest breakup, with the first of nth great loves of my life. He is so hard to leave and so hard to hate and so hard to look at when I feel the way that I do. and the way I feel, I think, is


but most of all
overwhelming love.
and I don't get it. I feel as though I've been waiting for something to change for months, and in this time have found myself sinking deeper and deeper in my grief. Isn't it so true that when you wait for something for so long, it ends up seeming like something imagined? Like the reindeer that never land on the roof? In my case I have yet to figure out what it is I'm anticipating. What is life like when you really have not one clue what it is you're sitting around wasting the days for?

It gets tiring, and makes nothing fulfilling.

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