An ending.

It was false, plastic, without substance or depth. It felt nice superficially, which at times was so much better than not feeling, but inevitably ended up feeling hollow, dishonest, unverified and unsupported.

And so I felt hollow, disappointed, unsatisfied. Momentarily content and warm, but with nothing to carry over afterwards.

I don’t want chaotic neutral; both words offend me. I want meaning, helping, kindness. I want to give, and I want to learn.

Instead, he offered arrogance and deaf ears.

I may question my timing for ending things, but I can’t question the decision itself. Rather, I’m disappointed that he isn’t fighting like he once did. That he doesn’t now speaks to his indifference. And I guess that’s what really hurts.

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