Holidays, Schmolidays

I have read 25 blogs that detail the state of unpreparedness for Christmas, so I will refrain from describing my own. Besides, I am about as ready as I am going to be.

An interesting phenomena occurred on Saturday.

My ex-girlfriend, with whom I'd had zero contact since a particularly acrimonious phone call on October 30, sent me an e-card for Christmas, followed by a handful of e-mails, asking me about an unusual loose gemstone she'd purchased.
The phenomena was that I didn't react with my usual rapture, swooning and longing for her to be back in my arms. It was more like seeing the Wizard of Oz from behind the curtain.
In my mind, the bad times had blurred and the good memories had glazed over everything during the six-week silence. I felt I'd never get over her, and had been indulging in some monumental self pity as a result.
But her e-mails were rather, well, boring. My heart failed to pound at the sight of her name. That was a wonderful new feeling for me.
I am sure she was testing the waters in her usual noncommittal way.
She divulged nothing of herself, and when I followed suit and responded to her questions about the rock in the driest of geological terms, she eventually thanked me and wished me happy holidays and bid me to "take care."
I did not reply.
I suppose I could follow the Wizard of Oz theme and sing, "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead," but she's not a witch, nor is she dead.
What she is is an ex-lover whose once almighty hold on me seems to have died.
Given some time to heal and mourn, I am finally realizing that I am basically a happy person with few problems in life.
She was a problem.
We fought more than we loved, and she severely burnt me at the end.
I was addicted to her, and the addiction was wearing me down.
I think I may be free now, and that's the phenomenal thing.