Relationships can end in so many ways. Sometimes quick and sudden, loud and desperate. Sometimes, quiet and slow, in ebbing waves. My second relationship of almost a decade ended like this. Ended without applause, without pain or a reason – just a soft-spoken goodbye.

Falling out of love is the realisation that a path you walked has forked into two a while ago and you are just now realising how far apart you already are.

It’s gentle and dull

Somewhere along the way, I stopped caring. No, not necessarily. I remember still caring for my partner. We’ve grown up together, met as teenagers and faced adulthood together. And turning from reckless, immature students into people who started to understand the world a little. At some point, we developed into two again, instead of still wanting the same things. So no, it’s not necessarily a lack of caring. I still want nothing but the best for them. But, opposite to when I was in love, I stopped wanting to put my energy into making them happy. Suddenly, there was an indifference that stopped me from being the one to provide them with what I know they want and need.

It’s a quite sadness and grief

And once you question, if you’ve fallen out of love, it becomes obvious through quite a few things. Suddenly, you don’t feel like resolving things anymore – it’s as if there’s not enough energy for it. It’s as if you simply stopped wanting to invest anything of yourself. There might not even be fights anymore, especially, if it’s mutual. It becomes living your lives parallel to each other instead of embracing each day together. Physical intimacy stops. Not just sex – but especially the small, little things. Brushing hands, a kiss on the forehead, a hug. Spoken affection. And being around them starts to be less desirable than being alone.

I remember grieving the relationship I was aware I was losing in real-time, too. Mourning something that hasn’t yet happened, but the lack of motivation and, at some point dooming certainty, brought. It’s confusing. And at times, frustrating.

Can you fall back in love again?

I think it’s the missing desire to invest that causes the relationship’s eventual collapse. When I described what it feels like to love someone, I described it as a choice you both make. The choice, to make each other happy, to be together, to spend your lives alongside each other. Falling out of love feels like disengaging from that choice. And whilst my relationship ended and we both agreed to move on, because it felt like the healthier choice, I can also see other cases, in which it still can be undone. No, not undone – renewed. A renewed active choice of working towards your paths meeting again.

After all, a relationship is work. Work that, if it’s healthy, doesn’t feel like it, because the amount of energy you give, you’ll get back from your partner in return. But the self-reflection you might gain from this can prompt valuable insights into desires, needs and whatever it is you want from a relationship. And with time, effort and attention, people might grow closer again. But it’s something both need to really want.

Because at the end of the day – what can one do, if leaving is what feels right for the other?

[Picture by Anna Atkins – Thank you!]