I (31F) met him (31M) online maybe 7 years ago. He’d asked to meet me, even if it was just for a cup of coffee, pretty early on but I kept putting it off cuz I didn’t want to disappoint him when he finally saw me. Over the course of the friendship though, he used to say things that made me not only see him as a good friend that I could trust but also idk… he made it sound like he really liked me (there are a million examples but I don’t want to get into it rn). Last year, I decided I wanted to know him in real life and that I didn’t want fear and anxiety to dictate how I lived my life. I wanted to take the risk. We live in the same city and are actually less than a mile away from each other (including our places of employment). It started off slow but we began hooking up (we’d only ever meet maybe once a month but… it was nice). I’d never been physically intimate with anyone before but I trusted him and wanted to be intimate with him knowing that there was a possibility he didn’t want anything more from me. But… he’d say/do things that made me feel like maybe he did like me. That he wanted something more. That just needed time and patience. And well. I fell in love with him. The more I got to be around him and talk to him (even if we only met once a month, we’d talk over text all day and night). And I kept thinking “This feels too good to be true. It doesn’t make sense that I went 30 years without anyone and now suddenly the first guy I meet feels like I’ve met the love of my life.” I eventually told him how I felt. He told me he didn’t know what to say. I took his non-answer to be his answer. But there was still this kernel of hope. I think everyone on this subreddit knows what that hope is. Maybe if I show him how much I love him. Maybe if I let him get to know me more. Maybe if I’m patient while he heals from him past traumas. Maybe if I can get him to see how compatible we are. Maybe if he understands how pure my intentions are. Maybe if he sees that I’m not going to hurt him like the people in his past. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
The day I finally worked up the courage (or rather, the day my heart was tired and had reached its limits and I wanted the hope to stop hurting me) to ask him to tell me honestly how he felt, to be brutally honest about it, he told me he doesn’t love me.
No “I like you as a friend but that’s it.” No “you’re great, I’m just not in the headspace for a relationship.” Just… “I don’t love you. I’m sorry” which… that was on me. I did ask for brutal honesty. He was just following instructions. But… it made me realize how little I actually mattered. And how all those little moments where I felt like he liked me were just me feeding into my own delusions. He never felt the same. And he never will.
And now he tries to continue talking like we’re buddies. I know I should go no contact. I know the urge to seek comfort from him is misguided. I know I need distance from him before I can actually be his friend again. And I know any friendship we’re able to salvage from this will never be the same. But… how does one move on from having met the love of one’s life—the person I was sure was meant for me in every single way—knowing that I was never going to be the love of his life? I was ready to reconsider my stance on marriage and kids for him. I was ready to reconsider my stance on dealing with in-laws and the whole baggage that comes with marriage in my community for him. I was that sure that he was the one. Because he was worth all the stress and heartache and anxiety that would be borne of it all. I would want to be braver for him, to be stronger, to be more… he made me want to be better for him. To be able to deserve him. And now… how does one move on knowing that you weren’t meant to have the love of your life in your life for more than a season?