And I still love you

And I still love you.

How many times have we heard that from someone we've broken up with?

Or said that to someone who broke up with us?

If you're like me, it's happened. A couple of times.

And it's happening again.

Differently, this time, but still, happening, again.

The love is there, and always will be. But the appeal has faded to the point where I'm wondering what it ever really was.

If that makes any sense at all.

I guess it's the truest case of falling out of love.

You always hear songs about people who fall in love.

You seldom hear songs about people who fall out of love.

"Falling out of love is suicide
But it's a crazy, crazy ride"
~ Janine stoll, "Crazy Ride"

(Yeah, leave it to me to find a redheaded Canadian singer-songwriter who can write a breakup song. Shocking.)

But the past couple of days I've been realizing that the love I used to have is really, really distant.

Sure, it will always be there. But not like it used to be.

And I'm a bit sad about that, because it had such promise.

Such is life.

Yes, I used to be totally in love with the city of Columbus. Now, not so much.

I will always love you, you big city in the middle of the state, but I'm not in love with you, anymore.