Okay, okay, I finally did it.

I went to Stacey's place to hang out with her while she was packing. I ate my dinner, and we watched a little bit of America's Got Talent. (The opera singer should totally win, IMHO.) After a while, I turned off the TV and we had a heart-to-heart. She told me about her frustrations with finding a quality house that she liked in her price range. After a couple minutes of silence, I decided it was time to let her know about my feelings.

She gave me props for being honest (something I hadn't been good at in past relationships). She said that I'd have to sacrifice a lot to be with her. Part of me wonders if this was an escape hatch for me, her, or both of us.

"You never loved me," she said matter-of-factly. And it was true. I may have come close to saying it before, but I was never truly in love with her.

After my announcement, she went to assemble another packing box for glassware. I helped her box four wine glasses before she said, "I think you should go."

I gathered my stuff, went to the door, turned back to see her looking away, said "Take care of yourself," and left.

This was the most honest breakup I've done. Somehow, I can't help but feeling a little like an asshole. Old hat, I guess.