3 journal-entry snippets about falling out of love*
Feelings don’t turn off. They don’t have a switch, there’s no door to slam in their faces. They’ll permeate through, under the cracks we miss. Feelings end over gradients. The fade won’t be smooth. It won’t be consistent. It won’t be beautiful. But, I promise, one day, you will look around yourself and realize that you have crossed into a new color. The old hue will just be a washed-out remnant intermixed with the past.
As for the boy that lingers in the back of my head, I think it’s safe to say that over the past five years, he has digressed from John — perhaps never was John**. Distorted into someone else entirely, his likeness was filled with too many holes and gaps to be real. He’s warped into an Entity, the idea of a longing secret admirer, of a shy observer, of a boy fated for me. Thank God I’ve realized this. Now I can imagine Him with better teeth.
I looked at him today, steadily, while he presented in class. Testing myself. Patting the earth with my sole for tentative firmness. Yes, I think the spell has weakened. Or maybe it was just his ugly red flannel.
*I use the term “love,” as usual, very loosely.
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