Dear Roe,
Twelve years ago I had a short, intense and passionate relationship with a man I completely adored. We were in our late 20s and he ultimately ended it, claiming he loved me but that he was too young to commit. I was devastated, and it took me years to recover. I did date again and go on to have a long-term, reasonably happy relationship, which has also recently ended. I thought constantly about this man. We met up platonically a few times and though he never expressed any desire to get back together, he was always kind and regretful that he had hurt me the way he had. I hadn’t spoken to or seen him in about five years until he recently popped up on a dating app claiming to be looking for a long-term commitment. I really want to reach out and see where we stand. Part of me wonders if I can ever fully close the door if I don’t. Another part of me wonders if I’m just opening myself up to a whole world of fresh pain. Mostly, I am just so sick of thinking, wondering and desiring a man who has become more of a fantasy than a real figure.
I’m going to be blunt, not because I want to cause you any pain, but because I genuinely believe you deserve better and will be better once you start to accept the truth: This is not your man. You need to move on from him.
You were in your late 20s when you met, which is not in your teens. If he wanted to commit to you, he could have. But he didn’t then, and he’s not offering you anything now. He knows you exist, he knows how to find you, he knows you are interested, he is apparently now single – and he has not now nor ever tried to rekindle anything. He has met up with you platonically, he has mentioned being sorry for how he treated you – and did not end those meetings with any expression of interest. That’s not a person who is pining for you, that is a person who had a fling 12 years ago and has moved on. It’s time you do, too.
I ended my situationship six months ago but I’m still not over him. How do I move on?
Where can my wife and I access porn that is both legal and erotic?
I think I’m in love with my ‘situationship’ but he doesn’t feel the same
‘My brother-in-law wants to move in with us but I don’t think my marriage will survive it’
I know that’s much easier to say than to do. But I think exploring why this man has loomed so large in your imagination for so long will really be helpful in reconnecting with yourself, and opening up a way for you to fully connect with others. Because the truth is that if you’ve spent years thinking about this man, you have become somewhat emotionally unavailable to yourself and other people. By pinning all your hopes of happiness on this man, by believing that you as an individual and any other relationship you have will be a pale comparison to the intense, passion-fuelled, inspiring version of yourself and love that you experienced with him, you’re not just idealising him, you’re outsourcing your own emotional aliveness to a memory.
Let’s be clear: loving someone who is unavailable is a way of being unavailable yourself. It feels safer to chase a ghost than to risk intimacy with someone real. Fantasising about him spares you from having to confront the uncertainty, vulnerability and messiness of true connection. You say you thought about his man constantly throughout your last relationship and though I don’t doubt that there were legitimate and valid reasons for that relationship ending, I wonder what you missed while you were constantly thinking about someone else. I wonder what disservice you did to your partner and yourself by comparing the lived-in, comfortable, beautiful, sometimes boring reality of a long-term love to a brief, years-ago fling that never had to prove itself, never had to sustain itself over time, never had the opportunity to get boring and routine and bogged down by the realities of day-to-day adult life. I wonder how much you missed about the experience of being really loved by someone who was right in front of you because you were thinking about a man who left you 12 years ago.
I don’t say this to cause you to doubt the end of your recent relationship, but to draw attention to how you might enter your next one differently. Fantasising about this man means you’re not fully present in your own life, and you both deserve to be and need to be if you want to find and hold on to real love in the future. He is no longer the barrier to your future - you are, by holding on to a door that’s been shut for years.
So here’s the shift I want to invite you into: instead of asking, “Will I ever stop loving him?”, ask, “What was it about that version of me - the one who felt alive and lit up in that brief relationship - that I miss?” Because this isn’t really about him. It’s about how you felt in his presence: electric, brave, hopeful. That version of you still exists, and he’s not the only one who has the key to unlock it. She’s not waiting on a man to return; she’s waiting on you to come home to her. But you never will if you don’t commit to yourself, if you give away all your power to this man and believe that he’s the only one who can bring her out. You need to take that power back. You need to remember that you are capable of feeling passionate and alive and inspired, and do the work to tap into that. Just as you need to stop investing in the fantasy of this man, you need to stop relegating that version of yourself to fantasy. She’s real. You can bring her back. But only if you try, instead of just waiting for a man.
Loving someone who is unavailable is a way of being unavailable yourself. It feels safer to chase a ghost than to risk intimacy with someone real
You’ve been thinking about this man for so long that you need to treat this like a break-up. Give it time and attention and rituals. Grieve the fantasy like you would a relationship. Write a letter to him (that you won’t send) where you say everything - the longing, the what-ifs, the resentment, the gratitude. End the letter by releasing him. Not with bitterness, but with compassion. You loved a possibility, and it’s okay to mourn that.
Then reconnect with your own spark. Make a list of times in your life when you felt passionate, wild and fully alive. What were you doing? Who were you around? What’s an adventure or experience you’ve wanted to try but have been too scared? Commit to embodying these elements in your life - not for a partner, but for you. As you do this, practise loving in the present. That means building emotional availability within yourself. Get curious about your own desires, not just romantic ones. What kind of life excites you? What kind of connection do you crave that goes beyond drama or intensity? Invest in the relationships you have – familial, friendship – and reach out to people you always wanted a deeper connection with. Listen well. Get vulnerable. See where you resist real connection, and gently challenge yourself to go deeper.
And finally, protect your energy. If he reaches out again - and he might - remember that you get to choose what kind of relationship you want, and he isn’t it. You’ve invested in the fantasy so long that it will never be an equal relationship. You can’t see him clearly, which means you won’t be able to show up as yourself – and that’s what you’re looking for. To meet someone as equals, ready to connect truly, vulnerable, deeply, openly.
He was a spark. But you are the fire. Stop searching for him in the ashes - build a new blaze from the embers of your own becoming.
