David and I spoke last night, for once. I was walking the dog during most of it. Sometimes, for moments things felt almost normal again, almost good. Then I'd just start crying. He was asking me questions and such, what I thought and how I felt about thus and so, mostly related to us before, or now, or our compatibility. Sometimes just talking about what's been going on. It seemed though as if all of his feelings on these subjects amounted to "I miss you sometimes, and I still find you attractive, and you're a great girl.. but I just don't love you anymore."
Says he, in response to "how have you been doing?":
"I've been doing ok, pretty good. Sometimes awesome. I feel confident that we'd be better off with other people."
So in addition to some crying during this hourlong conversation, which may have been quiet enough that he didn't know but it's hard to say, I pulled a pillow over my head and wailed and sobbed for a little while after hanging up. It's been six months. Six months, and I still have weeks at a stretch where I can't stand the thought of letting him go without beginning to disintegrate. He's frustrated that we can't hang out as friends.