Let down or sad are exactly the words I would use to describe the feelings at the loss of the transference. And it is a loss... For me it was like a protective blanket, insulating me against, well, a lot of things. Sad, bereaved, empty, lonely. It's easier to wrap up in a warm fantasy of love that to face those things.
I don't think the feelings originated from the transference, I think they were there all along... I was hiding them from myself...
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'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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