Below is a passage from Stephanie Meyer's New Moon. This is the first thing I have read that has so perfectly described how I feel. Of course what scares me the most is that I may feel this way forever...
How could I explain so that he would understand? I was an empty shell. Like a vacant house - condemned- for months I'd been utterly uninhabitable. Now I was a little improved. The front room was in better repair. But that was all-just the one small piece. He deserved better than that-better than a one-room, falling-down fixer-upper. No amount of investment on his part could put me back in working order.
You won't feel empty forever, I promise. Before long, you're going to move on to the stage where you are very very angry. It's kinda fun.
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