I think I've figured out most of what I need to know - about him and where we both were in the relationship that is now turning cold in the ground. While the acceptance and the feeling of having closed most of the doors have settled and stabilised me, the pain still remains in spite of my best efforts.

I find myself thinking of the nauseas young man on a plane whose neck ached from writing a long letter - the first to his new love - over a crappy airplane table, all of four years and 20 days ago. I think about the good years we shared. I think about how four years didn't feel anything like four years because every day with him was beautiful. I think about how much we had, and how much we could have had at this moment and moments to come.

But the trouble with figuring things out is, you realise all the misconceptions and pretenses that clouded the things you saw.

I realise I didn't have very much anymore the past year or so, and that's a very disappointing thought.

Maybe that's why I don't miss him as much as I thought I would. Because he wasn't here very much anymore anyway. One less sleepy phonecall each night. One or two less dinners a week. One or two less evenings of him falling asleep on the sofa after having arrived at my place just an hour before. One less evening in a month or two when I initiated making love after wondering why he hadn't asked anymore for such a long time.

So little he shared with me towards the end. Of his heart, there was nothing. I had his obligation, and that was it.

The last conversation we had, I ranted at him how I regretted giving so much. He dryly told me that, just so I know, I wasn't the only one who was giving. Sounding like a presumptuous, defensive prick, he'd misunderstood me. I had meant "giving" in the most important way a person gives in a relationship. In the way he had stopped giving for some time.

I had given him the rarest and most valuable thing to me - trust. That's gone now, smashed to bits by him and the shards swept away so that I wouldn't see.

I hate the way everything makes sense in hindsight. I hate the way I put my gut instinct aside for individuals I think are worth giving the benefit of the doubt. Everything figures now, everything signposted for me now that I've chosen to turn my head and look behind.

I hate the way he's made me a fool.

He didn't have any harmful intentions, in case you're about to berate me for being judgemental. Well, duh. Intentions don't mean squat if you go ahead and hurt someone anyway, knowing that what you're doing is harmful. Living in denial and refusing to deal with things is a slow, painful way for you to torture someone to death in a relationship.

So maybe he was telling the truth - that he realises he doesn't feel he should be in a relationship right now. So, everyone, do me a favour - if you see him with a new girl anytime soon, promptly carve out his balls with a rusty steak knife, if only to save an innocent new girl from future heartbreak. [Update (9 March): Wasn't this prophetic? Just a few days before I found out about his new squeeze. But I saw this coming anyway. Few people were surprised to find out, actually.]

I'm not sure how much I miss him, and I won't know till I happen to see him in person, I suspect. But what I do miss, very acutely, is what we had before it all went to the dogs (using HIS turning point all that time ago, not this recent discussion-leading-to-breakup). When work and home were going rough, he was always the part of my life that made me happy.

Ironic, isn't it? 2006 was the year that I finally took a stock-take of my life and realised I was truly happy. 2006 - when he'd already started losing his feelings for me, if they weren't lost already.

So fucking disappointing. If what I've figured/found out is true, it didn't take much for him to start losing his taste for me, and he'd let worthless external things affect something as treasured as our relationship. And there was nothing I could have done about it, which feels downright shitty.

**Here is where I wrote a lot of thoughts and revelations, but decided to delete them so that the dirty laundry wouldn't be too unsightly for some. I need to say them...but perhaps not here.**

A guy in love will say many things that are meant to last forever. Sure, when it ends, he'll tell you, "Well, I meant it at the time I said it." And I'll say to him, "Then you shouldn't say things and make promises that you have no idea how to keep. Your words define who you are, spoken and unspoken." That's why I myself never promise forever - what I do promise is my whole heart and commitment. Commitment, however, occupies a very immature part of his concept of relationships. He was absolutely right - he doesn't know what love is. But I do.

What to do? I loved an immature runt.