damik's Diaryland Diary

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I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong

I don't love him anymore.
It startled me to realize it earlier this week, and it saddens me to write it. I never thought it would happen. Never, I told myself, as I was leaving, never, assured him as I packed. I'll never stop loving you, your too much a part of me.
When did I stop loving him? I think it was before I moved out. At that time I wasn�t sure what I felt, but I don't think it was love. Anymore then I think what he felt for me was love.
It was as startling as the realization that I could live with out him, or the discovery that I could be angry for some of the things he did to me. That I could still be sorry for some of the things I did to him, but they weren't all unjustified.
If I thought for one moment I would find myself in this place three months ago, I may have been to scared to move. But here I am, hopeful about the future, sure about parts of myself, and secure about the decision to leave the man that I've spent all of what can be counted as my adult life so far. I've found some determination I thought I had lost forever. And I don't think I'm going to blame it all on the Prozac fully kicking in.
I don't love him anymore. I'm still not so sure what love is, but I don't need to pretend that its still between us. I don't need it to still be between us.

1:32 p.m. - 06-02-03
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