Last night I found myself thinking back on the loves of my life. I've been fortunate to be in love before, though I haven't been in love in quite some time (but that's a different blog). I engaged in a silly exercise, comparing loves and thinking about who I had loved "the most" (speaking of romantic love here, not the love I have for my children, family, and friends). I can recall the deep, endless, self-sacrificing love I felt. How I would have done anything to bring him happiness, and how feeling his love was one of the greatest feelings I'd ever felt.
I began to think how I feel for him now...if I feel anything at all. My feelings for him epitomize ambivalence. Not hatred, not longing, not regret....just....neutral, nothing.
In my experience, when a person whom I immensely love begins to mistreat me, disrespect me, neglect me, tear me down, and otherwise treat me like shit, I go through somewhat of a grief cycle. Initially, I am deeply wounded. I long for the sunnier times when love was reciprocal. I examine myself to see what I may have done to cause this change, to become unlovable. Then I feel anger, disdain, and disbelief at how things have changed. And in time, I feel numb towards that person.
People always say love is a powerful thing, and it is. What I've come to realize is that the inverse of love is perhaps equally powerful. But instead, its power is in its ability to diminish and eradicate love. It's a slow and painful process, to be sure, but it's a thorough process. I stand in awe of the realization that the person I once loved so completely is now someone I feel nothing for. Not because I lost interest, strayed, outgrew him, etc. But because he treated me in such a way that my love began to evaporate. Then again, maybe my love just changed direction. Instead of pouring into him, it began pouring into me. I began to love myself enough to stop exposing myself to the inverse of love.
