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	<title>knowbody.net &#187; Love</title>
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		<title>Those Aren&#8217;t Fighting Words, Dear</title>
		<link>http://www.knowbody.net/2009/08/07/those-arent-fighting-words-dear/</link>
		<comments>http://www.knowbody.net/2009/08/07/those-arent-fighting-words-dear/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 07 Aug 2009 21:58:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Alan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Inspiration]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Love]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.knowbody.net/?p=136</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<img width="188" height="188" src="http://www.knowbody.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/02love-500-188x188.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="Those Aren’t Fighting Words, Dear" title="Those Aren’t Fighting Words, Dear" />http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/02/fashion/02love.html From the article: I don&#8217;t love you anymore. I&#8217;m not sure I ever did. His words came at me like a speeding fist, like a sucker punch, yet somehow in that moment I was able to duck. And once I recovered and composed myself,  &#8230;]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<img width="188" height="188" src="http://www.knowbody.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/02love-500-188x188.jpg" class="attachment-medium wp-post-image" alt="Those Aren’t Fighting Words, Dear" title="Those Aren’t Fighting Words, Dear" /><p></p><br /><p><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/02/fashion/02love.html">http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/02/fashion/02love.html</a></p>
<p>From the article:</p>
<blockquote><p>I don&#8217;t love you anymore. I&#8217;m not sure I ever did.</p>
<p>His words came at me like a speeding fist, like a sucker punch, yet somehow in that moment I was able to duck. And once I recovered and composed myself, I managed to say, &#8220;I don&#8217;t buy it.&#8221; Because I didn&#8217;t.</p>
<p>He drew back in surprise. Apparently he&#8217;d expected me to burst into tears, to rage at him, to threaten him with a custody battle. Or beg him to change his mind.</p>
<p>So he turned mean. &#8220;I don&#8217;t like what you&#8217;ve become.&#8221;</p>
<p>Gut-wrenching pause. How could he say such a thing? That&#8217;s when I really wanted to fight. To rage. To cry. But I didn&#8217;t.</p>
<p>Instead, a shroud of calm enveloped me, and I repeated those words: â€œI don&#8217;t buy it. </p></blockquote>
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