Obviously (as I'm not an inanimate block of ice), this hurt me immeasurably. I thought we had something real and he was a man I could love for... let's just stick with a long time. I was, apparently, wrong. As people do not just "fall out of love" in the space of four days, this leaves me with the desperate wonder of what in our relationship was actually real and what was simply what I wanted to hear and/or believe. Did he ever really love me? When did he stop? And why? These questions, though asked of him multiple times, will forever go unanswered. This sucks. I hate unanswered questions.
I've been told that I'm taking it well. I don't know if that's entirely true, but I refuse to wear sackcloth and ashes because he's not the man I thought he was. (It leaves me questioning my own judgement a little, but not too badly, because I have awesome friends.) The lesson I have to give from heartbreak is this; Ladies, when you're broken up with, have some pride! Don't call him incessantly. Don't drive by his house. This makes you crazy ex-girlfriend. Nobody regrets breaking up with crazy ex-girlfriend. They regret losing the one who cries, hurts, then puts on her big girl panties and kicks life in the butt and says, "Is that all you've got?!" That's the woman who makes him regret his own stupidity. So this is me, putting on my big girl panties and dealing with it.