Welcome to Flavor Country, bitch!
There's the sappy side to falling out of love that bands like Air Supply might sing about, but the hard-hitting, kick-in-the-ass reality of it is the momentous awful awkwardness you'll feel when you finally bite the bullet and realize you need to do something about it. No one ever stops being in love, goes to their significant other with a handshake and a goodbye fruit basket, and just moves on. No, instead we opt to start staying out later, drinking, watching movies until 4 a.m. to avoid bed, not making eye contact, having affairs, and muttering hateful things like some latter-day Sideshow Bob with a faceful of rake.
Not many people know that I was once arguably in love, and now, in retrospect, I will never be sure if it was love or desperation. But whatever emotion it was, I rode it into the ground like the world's most unloved horse and left it there to rot. What is clear is that the relationship lasted so much longer than it should have that, in the end, I literally faked insanity to get out of it. I want you to appreciate that for a moment, because it's not even a joke. I pretended my brain had broken so that I could get out of being with someone. I had no other ideas at all, and the best thing I could come up with was a fractured psyche. For what it's worth, it actually worked, but that doesn't change the fact that it never should have gotten that bad. If mental illness is your ace in the hole, you have failed miserably at whatever it is you're doing. That's the sort of thing murderers do at their trials, for God's sake.
If I could impart any knowledge to you based on my own experiences, it's that you should probably bite the bullet as soon as it becomes obvious to you that your relationship is over, rather than let it fester like some kind of terrible sore that will bubble over with animosity and insanity lies.