Three years ago today, I was informed by the person I loved that she needed a break. Things had been getting pretty serious between us, but then she met someone else and apparently realised that there are other people out there she could crush on.

I’d always known she was a flight risk, not ready for a serious relationship. I’d always known she’d never chose me. I was too different from anyone else she had relationships with before or had dated.

I was hopelessly in love with her and would have wanted more. I thought giving her the time and space she needed, she would eventually realise that I was right for her. And whilst she admitted that I was good for her in many ways, what we had was probably too ‘boring’. Because there was no drama between us.

Until she created it and ran off.

There is more that happened after she first left me hanging just a few days before my birthday. But it no longer matters. She not only broke my heart, she also ended our friendship and ghosted me for an entire year, followed by a self-serving email for my next birthday, which I didn’t take well and blew her off.

It took until the pandemic hit and lockdown was imposed for her to check in with me, more genuinely caring this time. After sporadic contact over the next four months, we caught up in person last August and it was actually good to see her. I thought things might have changed.

But no.

Until that point I had already done a lot of healing. I had grown so much stronger than when she had first ditched me. I’d gone through all my failings, of which there were a few, though I did not take all the blame.

I had chosen her and allowed myself to fall for her fully aware of what I was getting into. I had known three months into our acquaintance that I would be the one to end up in heartbreak. I couldn’t resist falling for her. I didn’t want to.

And she had feelings for me too.

In hindsight, I know our dynamic was not a healthy one. She called the shots, decided the speed at which we moved ahead and strung me along. I didn’t mind because I am confident and secure in myself and had no immediate plans for our friendship/relationship (which would now be referred to as a situationship). I wanted to give us time and see where things were headed. I felt no need to dictate a path for us.

That probably looked passive to her, though it was not my intention to be passive. Since she was the hyperactive type (surely still is), there was an apparent imbalance. In reality, we balanced each other out, but she didn’t perceive it that way.

Things being what they were three years ago, I knew we didn’t stand a chance. We were ridiculously attracted to each other, but that wasn’t enough to hold us together.

The way she ultimately ended things remains inexcusable. She acted selfishly, cowardly and without any care for my feelings or opinions. I could accept that she ended things. Of course, it would have hurt not matter what. But doing so in an email, putting all the blame on me, broke something in me that took a long time to repair.

Seeing her again, made me realise that I had healed enough to move on. I also realised that I would probably always have feelings for her and that she would never be available for what we could have.

She needs drama. I don’t. I would only ever be able to offer her a grown-up, ‘boring’ relationship. That’s all I have to offer anyone at this point.

The last time I saw her, I told her that a friendship was not an option for me because we never were ‘just friends’. I was at risk of falling for her again but knew that she would never be able to give me what I needed. I also told her that.

I had the guts to face her and tell her how I felt.

Whilst she appreciated my honesty, she offered none herself. I only later found out that she was in a relationship with the person she had originally ditched me for. Had been almost the entire time.

It was the final blow, of course.

Whatever she wanted from me, has always wanted from me, I was and am no longer able to give it. The true imbalance between us was me being good for her and her being bad for me.

When I talk or write about her, I keep the pain and resentment at bay. It serves no purpose. I fell for her for a reason. There is much to love about her. I will never be truly able to purge her from my heart. But the memory of us will also always hurt at least a little.

I am happy now. My heart is scarred but free and nowhere near as heavy as it was for the longest time. My self-worth is not dependent on anyone. And no one will ever get to touch it again.

What she did and how she treated me says more about her than it does about me. I have enough flaws and shortcomings and certainly made mistakes. But I always treated her right. I never said or did anything to hurt her.

Though in my final message to her I told her that she would not be welcome in my life again. I’m done with her and will stand by that. Chances are, I haven’t heard or seen the last of her. We live in the same area, barely 15 minutes’ walk from each other.

My love for her was unconditional, but her presence in my life is not. There is no basis of trust or respect between us, which saddens me the most.

In her last message to me, she told me not to wait for her. That was never an option anyway. The problem is, me moving on means that she will never be able to catch up with me again.

But that is her problem, not mine.