Come on, ladies. I know in this day and age that women are breaking down the walls of male dominion and excelling in areas formerly thought to be the sole purview of men...but, really, this is one of those places where, I, for one, would be glad that we never trespassed.

I am referring to that nebulous state of being in which one is referred to as having the inability to commit. I call it nebulous because often the one in the non-committed, or conflicted state seems either unaware of, or, at least, out of touch with their feelings on any level where they can be examined, harnessed, or changed.

I had naively believed that only men were prey to this condition, and certainly did not expect to encounter it in my own long-term relationship. Silly me...to think women were immune to this ill.

I have always believed that love is a decision - a decision that we make very day when we wake up to that person beside us. Sleepy-eyed or still snoring, rumpled or beautiful, whatever their condition we look at them and in that split second of which we are, perhaps, unaware, we decide how we see them - through the eyes of love or the eyes of anger or indifference.

You may have guessed I am not talking about the honey-moon phase - that giddy, wonderful, delerious stage at the beginning of things when you could swear you were sixteen all over again. No, I am referring to the daily routine of a long-established partnership.

That daily routine that will make or break you. Can you still look at each other and say in your heart, "My God, I love her"? Does she still give you the shivers with the expressive quirk of an eyebrow, or that dead-sexy shrug of a shoulder when you're dancing together?

...and if one of you no longer have those feelings, what do you do about it?

That, my friends, is where that decision comes in - that daily, weekly, monthly or however-often affirmation that is so important - in my books, necessary.

...and what do you do when it all goes South, or wherever these things go (usually very quickly, and in a hand-cart, in my experience)...

I am, right now, trying to find my way back to something resembling solid ground. I feel like I'm fighting a fog some days. I tell myself it must be a mistake, but it's hard to doubt the evidence of my eyes. I reach out to friends and family, and if I'm lucky, I find someone - a sister who will listen and not judge; who will let me rant and cry and wail that I still love my partner without telling me that I'm not making much sense, and, above all, not freelance about the offending partner, or tell me she never really liked her anyway.

Disaster! Now I have to defend her...and that is almost more infuriating than what she has done.

Sometimes I get stuck in reciting the wrongs done to me, over and over and over... Sometimes picking at the too-fresh wounds causes them to bleed all over again. At least then I feel something. Numbness has wrapped itself around my heart like a funeral pall, and I feel as if I am in mourning for my life. Did I mention I have some flair for the melodramatic?

At other times I berate myself for sitting too long on the pity pot, worrying out loud that my listener will tire of my whining. Fortunately, my sister-in-pain has a great sense of humor and the grace to use it when necessary. Mine seems to be temporarily in abeyance most mornings until prodded.

So, after eleven years, the woman I love tells me she is no longer attracted to me and wants to be on her own - now what?