I feel like that’s the most apt description of what I’m feeling.

Disenchanted with what exactly?

Most probably, love. Falling in love that last time was a disenchanting experience.

Love is always perceived as an enchanting phenomenon. Waking up in the morning as the first thought, going to sleep at night as the last. Constant wondering and daydreams during the day, with ache of longing at night. The rose-colored glasses, the spine-tingling kisses, the legs that threaten to topple you over and spill you into the concrete, just so that you can effervesce into the cracks of the sidewalk. You know that view of love, I’m sure.

But this love — this last love — was a disenchantment. Freedom from the illusion of love, I suppose. This may sound nihilist and painfully bitter, but it is the one by-product from that past relationship that feels crystal clear to me at the moment. I feel ultimately disenchanted by the idea of love.

Love is work, they always warned us. Love takes a lot of hard work. I never realized how much until this one. People change drastically, and so do our feelings toward them. I had never experienced such a wide gamut of emotions toward one person: affection, desire, pride, contentment, anger, resentment, melancholy, disappointment, and so many conflicting emotions, often in one day. There were really days when I questioned why I stayed. There were days when I could barely remember who we used to be.

I guess we disenchanted each other.

In the end, wasn’t this a service of sorts? To disenchant means to disillusion, to reveal the truth, to undeceive. I no longer feel like love could possibly have any more surprises for me in the future. I have seen the true face of love. Though I truly did love, I don’t think I’m in a rush to go looking for it again.

Perhaps, more than being disenchanted with love, I feel disenchanted with myself.

I am not the idealistic romantic I may have once been or once imagined myself to be. I know myself better now. I guess now I just have to figure out if I like this true self of mine, and what to do about it.


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