BTW, I don't think I've ever fallen out of love with any former girlfriend (or wife) or friend by whom I've felt the privilege of being loved in return. I've parted ways, felt hurt, been angry, cut myself loose form bad decisions, been driven crazy by recriminations, held (still hold) grudges, but I don't think I ever stopped loving a single person to whom I've once felt close. It often leaves me unnerved, this internal well of love that won't diminish, won't drain off into seeps of run-off emotion, or condense away into converted indifference, or compensatory hatred. I can peer inward and get lost in the eyes blinking back at me that aren't my own. It's an eternally weird sensation, but, in moments in which I need to see some reflection of who I think I am, that's where I look, into that cold well of memory, regret, and oft-broken trust, where my former friends still are.