Unconnected to the life of love, uncolored by love, the world resumes its own, its natural and callous importance. This is first a blow, then an odd consolation. And already I felt my old self - my old, devious, ironic, isolated self - beginning to breathe again and stretch and settle, though all around it my body clung cracked and bewildered, in the stupid pain of loss.
The speaker reflects on how the absence of love drastically alters their perception of the world. Without love, the world becomes indifferent and harsh, highlighting its own significance devoid of emotional connection. This realization brings a moment of pain but also a peculiar sense of comfort as the speaker reconnects with their former self, which had always existed apart from love's influences.
Even amid the turmoil of loss and confusion, there is a recognition of the past self that thrives in isolation and irony. Despite the physical and emotional manifestations of grief, the speaker discovers resilience within, signifying a struggle between the pain of separation and the innate strength of individuality that emerges in solitude.
