I dated my best friend in the world. It was the most amazing feeling knowing we could be both best friends and lovers, and was the best relationship dynamic I’d ever had. I was happy every single day.
A few months in, his grandmother died and he started acting weird. He said it was due to stress. But three months later, he was still acting weird. He hadn’t been that close with his grandma, so I knew something was up. It hurt me every day for those three months because something was different, but I couldn’t figure out what. I tried everything I could to get things back to normal. We weren’t having sex or having fun conversations; he also stopped complimenting me and whenever we watched TV he would make it a point to admire the beautiful girls (something he never did before). It hurt my self-esteem really bad. But still, he wouldn’t admit anything was wrong.
I finally confronted him and said I’d be gone if he didn’t own up to whatever was bothering him. As it turns out, he didn’t have feelings for me anymore… for those three entire months. He was too scared to tell me because he didn’t want to hurt me or lose me as a friend. I can’t even explain the sinking feeling in my chest, it hurt so bad. I became extremely depressed and would cry on my lunch breaks, sometimes even at work. I cried while driving, before bed, in the shower. I completely lost my sex drive and appetite. I think I masturbated once that summer and cried after I orgasmed anyway.
After I calmed down a few months later we were semi talking again, but nothing like it used to be. It killed me that he one day had feelings for me and the next day just… didn’t. But some part of me knew he’d regret it eventually.
Not long after, I met an amazing man. I totally wasn’t ready to date so we took it very, very slow. I’m in love with him and am sure he’s the man I’m going to marry one day. And as I suspected, my ex admitted that he has feelings for me and regrets not realizing it before. Too bad, motherfucker.