I Miss Him. I’ve Never Missed Anyone Like This—Even Though I Wasn’t Truly Happy With Him and There W…

I miss him. Ive never missed someone like this before. And I dont even know whyespecially when I never truly felt comfortable with him, and there were things that unsettled me.

We found each other on Facebook. It began with a few harmless messages, then one day he invited me out for a coffee. We met at a little park. That evening, my mood was low and my body ached terribly from a punishing session at the gymeach step I took sent pain shooting up my legs. The air was sharp and cold beneath a sky sprinkled with stars. We sat together, talking about our lives, sharing secrets, trading thoughts about who we were.

When it was time to leave, I hugged him. The embrace lingered for minutes, something I hadnt expected. It felt like coming home, even though he seemed so distantreserved, almost icyand I hardly knew him. Yet somewhere in that hug, I could tell deep down he wasnt as cold as he wanted the world to see. I dont know if he felt awkward, as I did, but I could sense he was struggling too, and that for a moment, it soothed him. We parted with one last, briefer embrace.

After that, our conversations drifted late into the night. Each morning, a good morning from him, and a steady stream of messages and discussions throughout the day. We started seeing each other occasionally, diving into dreams and lifes big questions. He told me he lived with a friend, mentioned his ex, admitted he kept in touch with old flames. Not long after, he moved back in with his parents.

When we officially became a couple, he came clean: he had, in fact, been living with his ex all along. According to him, there was nothing left between them, not even before wed met, but they still worked together.

He then posted a picture of the two of them online. For his birthday, Id planned a surprisea night at a beautiful medieval-themed restaurant. But that afternoon, a nasty message came through Instagram, insults hurled at me by a strange woman. I didnt reply, just asked him about it. He reminded me of his exhow she liked to use people to torment others, to send hostile messages. I didnt reply to her directly, not until Id spoken to him. He assured me he handled it, but the messages didnt stop. Finally, I gave only the briefest answernever the kind of woman to stoop to someone elses pettiness. I blocked her.

We got through that dark patch, somehow stronger for it. We started to share more. At the time I was unemployed, and he kept prodding me to find a job, even helping here and there with money, though I never once askedit was always of his own accord. When he went away on holiday, he insisted I stay at his. I agreed, not realising it would be my mistake to stick around the full two weeks.

He was testing me, he said. Wanted to see what I was truly like at home. He spent a fortune ordering food, insisting cooking was a waste of time and it was always simpler to get take-away. By the end of the break, so much money had gone. I urged him to be cautious, to cook instead, but he brushed me off. Afterwards, he blamed me for not helping him save, said if he was spending, I should have stopped himeven though Id told him exactly that.

He told me his bills were stacking up, that it made him anxious, and suddenly I felt burdened with guilt. I found work soon after and he said hed now be putting me to the testwanted to see if Id start contributing money, to pay my way for living with him, after everything he’d covered. He confessed it felt like he was supporting me. I didnt know what to say; I was still learning what it meant to be in a relationship.

Then, things changed. Plans dried up, meet-ups faded away, our messages grew clipped and distant. He said he needed to recoup his finances, that he wasnt eating well anymore. It all began to unravel.

One day, he accused me of digging into his pockets, damaging him financiallyeven though Id never asked him for anything. By then I was working too, sometimes Id foot the bill, sometimes he did, but there were never any more plans. Everything was just… different. We decided to end things amicably, grateful for the good and the lessons. We parted with dignity.

We tried again, later. We talked. But I didnt like coming to his flat after work and finding no food. Sometimes he didnt even invite me for a meal. Id wonder if I should bring my own lunch, or eat well beforehand, just to keep hunger at bay. I told him how it made me feel, but he said nothing, offered nothing. I felt alien in his home, barely considered. It chipped away at our bond.

One afternoon, on the train home with him, I felt faint, sickhad to sit on the floor just to avoid passing out. He did nothing. It was the final crack. Something inside me withdrew. Deep down, I still yearned for him, but knew in my bones he wasnt the man for menot for the life I wanted, despite the ambitions and dreams we once shared.

I pleaded many times for us not to fall asleep after arguments. Still, Id lie beside him, sobbing silently until sleep took me. Then one morning, Id had enough. I got up early, packed my things, and left. We talkedfinally. I told him everything I felt. Id once given him a drawing he cherished, but in that instant, I took it from his wall and left with it. I shouldnt have. Something broke in both of us.

Weeks later, we spoke again. He told me that when I took my drawing, Id stolen whatever happiness hed felt with it, that something had been shattered irreparably. We closed the door a second time. Sometimes Id send a thank you message or a video, but he never replied. It was all emptiness.

One night, near midnight, I received a torrent of abusea message blaming me for tearing him away from his family. I erased the chat, blocked the number. Then his colleagues at work started contacting me on social media. I knew it was the ex, or maybe his new girlfriend. I ignored them. I contacted his management and set boundariestold them if it continued Id take legal action. And that ended it.

I was left sad and changed. I finally saw he was not the man I wanted. We parted, not with bitterness, but seeing him choose, again, someone who had thrown so much chaos into his lifeit hurt.

Sometimes I miss certain beautiful moments. But thats all. One thing I know for sure: with me, he felt calm and proud. I dont believe with her hell ever feel the same, nor become the man he would want the world to see.