It's scary when the urge to scream into your pillow goes away and you're left with nothing. Empty space. You kind of expect anger... desperation... or something. Anything. But the self realization of nothing is illuminating.
Adaptation, I suppose. Or maybe evolution.
It's almost funny to think about all the times I flung out and "I don't care" when the opposite was true. And now that it's true, it's not worth the effort of forming the syllables.