Hi Anita! I didn’t want to write a novel, which is why I didn’t elaborate too heavily on what went wrong. Distance WAS the main reason. He lives over a thousand miles away from me. But another big reason is that our values, priorities, expectations and overall perspective on love do not align. We have a wonderful connection, but the most he can ever be for me is a good friend. I know that now. I love what you said about our emotional intimacy continuing reasonably. I do want that, and so does he. The problem is that I always find myself wanting more. He wants us to have a special relationship where there’s no label and no attachment due to the distance and circumstances, but we still share that bond we have with impunity…and let the chips fall where they may. He told me to “love lightly,” something I don’t believe I’m able to do. I’ve discovered time and again that it doesn’t work for me without feelings of abandonment and jealousy coming into the equation, so he has agreed to back off for awhile while I sort out what I want, which is ultimately just his friendship. I know it may be unreasonable to maintain that friendship when I still feel so strongly for him, but I don’t want to give up. He’s way too valuable to me. And I’m aware that this may go on and on until I meet and fall in love with someone else, but perhaps there is a healthy middle ground in the meantime? What do you think?

Thank you for saying that, Anita. To him, loving lightly means caring about me in a way that doesn’t disrupt the flow of his life with desire and expectation. I admire that approach, but have indeed found it difficult to feel the same way. I feel everything heavy duty, like you said. And I even failed my 21 day challenge. On day 9, I emailed him to tell him how much I loved him and that I wanted that to enhance our friendship rather than ruin it. I told him that I was willing to work through the heartbreak on my own terms if it meant keeping him in my life. As stubborn as it may sound, I just can’t NOT have him in my life. So I decided to take each day as it comes and place the responsibility of moving forward entirely on myself. I strongly believe that we can stay friends while I do that.

But it’s been hard. It still hurts. Every time we have one of our signature marathon conversations, I experience what I like to call an “emotional hangover” the next day. Today has been one of those days for me.

Yeah, that makes sense. We both have lives that don’t involve each other. We live so far apart, therefore our separate lives never intertwine. He thinks it’s “sheer madness” to maintain such intense feelings from this distance. But I can’t help it, and I’m sure he knows that by now.

My emotional hangover feels like a mini grieving process. It can last anywhere from a few hours to a few days. I cry, I sleep a lot, I move in slow motion, I feel heavy and distracted, and eventually, I snap out of it. Different things tend to trigger these feelings.

Also…thank you for talking this through with me. It’s hard opening up, but talking through it does help. It’s the next best thing to therapy.

I’m glad you’re fascinated by it! It definitely feels like a unique and singular issue, although I’m sure it’s not.

I just miss him. I often have flashbacks of how things used to be – talking every day, Skype dates, him always being there, the things we used to say to each other – and it sometimes leaves me feeling lonely and unsatisfied with the way things are now, even though we’re still really close. He just used to be so crazy about me. We even talked about the prospect of a future together, though I’ll be the first to admit that was a foolish thing to do so soon and with so much at stake. But I miss being wanted in that way. I miss having that kind of love in my life and struggle to understand why he would want to let it go to waste. Doesn’t everyone want to find someone who loves them unconditionally?

In a nutshell, I don’t know why I find it so hard to just be perpetually grateful that I have this wonderful person in my life in the first place. That’s the way it should be. I know good and well that the most he can ever give me is one hell of a friendship, yet I still have moments of longing for the alternative. He’s my best friend and the man who broke my heart at the same time. How do I go about separating the two?

That’s an interesting question because I actually feel kind of anxious when I imagine that. I don’t think he’s the type of person who could take care of me over the long-term (reason #572 we shouldn’t be together…haha). I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but one of the biggest lessons I took away from this relationship is that he’s bad at relationships and good at friendships. As a friend, he’s the pick of the litter. But he’s not good at romance and has been in very few serious relationships throughout the course of his life. I don’t believe he would make a good long-term partner. He’s excellent in the beginning, but withdraws when it comes time to make a real commitment to someone. If we got married, I have no doubt that it would be very tumultuous. And yet, I still love him. I love him for everything that makes him a good friend and a good person in general. I can see myself vowing to love him forever, live with him, take care of him, travel with him, encourage him, build a life with him…But he would have to become a completely different type of person for that to work. He would have to be willing to do the same things for me, and he’s just not. But he still cares about me, and I find myself clinging to that. He wants the best for me, is always there when I need him, and probably still has feelings for me, though he won’t allow himself to experience the extent of them. That has been very painful for me.