I’m sorry. I really did plan to step away from this thread because I want to respect your wishes and what you need right now. But the way you interpreted what I was saying is so far from what I intended that I hope you’ll allow me this one exception to explain myself more clearly.
I was not suggesting that people are interchangeable, or that we can simply shift our needs from one person to another as though relationships are pieces in a game.
Please understand that I thought I was in love with my AP. My attachment to him was enormous—so enormous that, looking back, its intensity didn’t entirely make sense to me. When we went no contact, I was miserable. It was one of the darkest periods of my life.
That is actually why I was trying to share this with you. The importance I placed on him and on our relationship felt almost like it was on steroids. I had never experienced anything like it before. And in some of what you have written, I recognize that same kind of overwhelming attachment.
What I eventually discovered was that my grief contained more than simply missing this particular person. There were things about the attachment itself that I needed to understand.
When our lives have become mostly work, responsibilities, taking care of other people, and very little that belongs just to us, life can become pretty dreary without us even fully realizing it. Then someone comes along whom we enjoy talking to, who makes us feel seen or alive, and suddenly there is something we genuinely look forward to every day.
That person is real. The connection is real. The loss of them is real.
But the attachment can also become disproportionate because so much of our emotional fulfillment has become concentrated in that one place.
Think about friendship for a moment. If you have five close friends, you probably value each one for different reasons. If one friendship ends, you would still grieve that person. You might miss them terribly and continue to love them. But you would also have other people to call, other connections, other sources of companionship and enjoyment. Those people wouldn’t replace the friend you lost. They would simply mean that your entire emotional world wasn’t resting on one relationship.
That is the distinction I was trying to make.
When one person has become the primary thing you look forward to, losing them can mean losing much more than the conversations themselves. You can also suddenly lose excitement, validation, companionship, escape, anticipation, feeling understood, or simply the sense that there is something in your day that belongs to you.
So when I said that some of my pain "wasn’t because of him," I expressed that badly. Of course some of it was because I missed him. What I meant was that there were other things contributing to the magnitude of my pain that I could not see or understand at the time.
That is why I was suggesting that the needs she awakened in you may be worth paying attention to. Those needs are legitimate. Understanding them does not diminish her or make her replaceable.
One of the things I identified very early in my own journey was that I desperately needed things to look forward to outside of working long hours, taking care of everyone else, and leaving very little room in my life for myself. I had to deliberately make some room for me.
That was what I meant when I suggested finding things to do, people to see, and experiences to look forward to. Not "replace her." Not "find someone else." Not "your relationship didn’t matter."
I meant: learn what this relationship awakened in you. Explore which parts of the attachment came from things that had been missing in your life, and begin building those things into your life in healthier and more sustainable ways. Not because doing that erases her, but because it can make this loss more bearable and your life more whole.
This part may or may not ultimately be true for you, but after doing a lot of that work myself, I realized that not all of the pain I had attributed to losing my relationship was actually about losing the relationship. Some of it came from realizing how little of a relationship I had with myself.
I wrote what I did earlier as a suggestion for coping with the life you have right now, because I remember how dark this stage can be. For months, I sat in a park and prayed for God to take my pain away. I remember wanting relief more than almost anything.
That is why your comment about beginning to consider the possibility that God might decide to take your pain away stood out to me. I remember being in a very similar place.
What eventually put me on the road toward recovery wasn’t suddenly having all the answers. It was much smaller than that. I started planning things I could look forward to. I started making room in my life for things that were mine.
It didn’t change everything overnight. It didn’t make me stop grieving. But little by little, it helped me build my life differently until I healed enough that I could begin finding genuine joy in things again.
That was really the point of my earlier post. It wasn’t a prediction about your relationship with her or your marriage. It was about how you might survive the loss you are experiencing right now and eventually discover where that process takes you.
And I think that is probably the most useful place to leave this. There is no need for us to keep wagering about what your friendship or your marriage will look like in the future. None of us knows that.
Right now, you are in pain. What helped me when I was in a similar place was finding a path through that pain—first by making life a little more bearable, and then by understanding why the loss had become so overwhelmingly large in my emotional world.
That is what I was trying to share with you.
I will respect your wishes about whether you want me to continue posting here. I just didn’t want to leave you with an interpretation of what I said that was so different from what I actually meant.