I just looked at someone I used to be in love with and felt grossed out. Not in a jealous, bitchy way just literally kind of grossed out by them. The look of them. Nothing meaningful happened, I just stumbled across a photo and thought 'yuck'.
This is a fairly momentus occasion for me, because I used to be petrified of that feeling, as though once we love we must always have some semblance of that passion for the person otherwise what was the point? I can't believe this is the feeling I was so afraid of, not disdain or hatred, instead its just actual nothingness laced with a small dash of repulsion.
For years I would cling to romantic sentiments and washed up memories that lost meaning eons ago but would replay in my mind like some sad old Roy Orbison record. Even when happy and in love with my beautiful husband there would still be moments of nostalgia because my ridiculous brain that romantisizes EVERYTHING refused to see what was blantantly infront of it; someone I am neither mentally or physically attracted to ONE iota.