Well, nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love. Loving someone who used to love you can be the saddest thing in the world.
If we must part forever,
And please myself with, while my heart's breaking.
With what a deep devotedness of woe
I wept thy absence - o'er and o'er again
Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain,
And memory, like a drop that, night and day,
Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!
- Thomas Otway
And then this happens, which is also sad:
I thought when love for you died, I should die.
It's dead. Alone, most strangely, I live on.
It's a process.
