And then there were none

One of the greatest novels from Agatha Christie (of whom I am a big fan).
Also the title of this post, to say that something's ended, that there's no real explanation for it, but still the result is under the eyes, and has to be dealt with, no matter how bad it is, or how strange.

The "honeymoon" is over, she dumped me, and with, let's say, very little "style".
Last time we talked, by phone, to arrange a meeting (it sounded a little "harsh" to get dumped with a text), she didn't know what to say, but still didn't say anything like the truth, and then, dignity offended at the question "let's just meet 5 minutes, and end this like civil people, doesn't seem a bad idea, no?" her tone got even angry, like it was me being the infamous scam artist; not the other way around.
Doesn't really matter, though.

She's fading away, already, albeit still a little slowly, and I am feeling strangely relieved... somehow, am accepting the reality, and my delusion with her behaviour is just helping me getting through all this.
And that's a stroke of luck, for at first I was terrified beyond imagination that her memory would haunt me for years... she's just deep mark in my memory, but I feel detached.
Don't know how to explain it; maybe the hard times will come again, but hopefully not.
It can't be all be dark, or can it?

But in these strange days something more has emerged: the love of people who did their best, no matter distance, nation in which they're actually living, or frequency of our encounters, some of my most beloved friends they just helped me in a wonderful, sweet way...
France, Ukraine, Australia, Italy, my friends casted a net around me, and that was... well, left me speechless.
So, all you are the reason of this last post.
Thank you.

And now, off we go to the next catastrophes!