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“You don’t miss him–you just miss the way he made you feel.”

No, of course. I don’t miss him. I do just miss the way he made me feel. You’re so right. 

He made me feel protected. But not because he was nurturing, or gentle, or protective, even. No, he was definitely none of those things. And definitely not because he treated all my issues as if they were his own. And certainly not because he would stay up with me when I was too anxious to sleep, playing games and watching my comfort shows, despite the fact that he hated them. 

He made me feel loved. Not because his eyes lit up whenever he’d see me. Not because he knew my coffee and fast food orders by heart, even though they changed on a weekly basis. Not because he was reassuring and patient. And clearly not because he was the only person who knew what to do when I was having a panic attack. 

He made me feel seen. He made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. He made me feel like I could do anything and everything.  

But, of course, none of these feelings he arose in me attest to his character at all. None of these showcase who he is as a person. 

So, you’re right. Even though I laughed the hardest when I was with him, and I felt at home when I was with him, I don’t actually miss him at all! How could I be so blind? Silly of me to ever say I miss the one person I have (so far) loved more than anyone!

I hope my sarcasm was tangible. And I hope it evidently displays my disdain for this phrase. 

My ex is the most loving man I’ve ever met. And saying this doesn’t have to automatically mean I’m shutting the door to others who may love me more than he did. I will welcome that with open arms when the time comes. But for now, it’s an acknowledgment of a hard truth–he is the most loving man I’ve ever met.  

I’m also not negating the fact that he was incredibly cruel to me once we broke up. This isn’t me considering ever getting back together with him. 

Admitting I miss him isn’t admitting defeat. I’m not giving up on dating by admitting this, nor am I giving up on myself. 

Listen, there’s nothing wrong with missing someone. How could you not? When you love someone so deeply and they’re no longer in your life, that love doesn’t just disappear. It transfers into different feelings, different energies. For some people, it transmutes into anger. Some people take all that love and shove it in the deepest parts of themselves in the hopes that it never resurfaces. 

But sometimes, it just lingers within you, floating around aimlessly with no way of expression. And that’s when it hits you: you miss them. 

Sometimes, you need to gaslight yourself into thinking those feelings are no longer there. Who am I to judge? I’d probably be in a much better place if I did that. 

But sometimes, you just need to feel it. Feel it in its entirety. Sometimes, it’ll feel so heavy, you feel like you can’t breathe. But, eventually, it’s lighter, a fleeting memory once too painful to think about but now makes you smile. 

Because you remember that person and the person they made of you. You remember how you felt, how they made you feel, and all the things about them that made you feel that way. 

You remember all the things they taught you, and all the ways they served as a catalyst to your growth, both during and after your time with them. 

If you’re lucky, you might even see how, over time, you converted the love that you had for them into love that you now pour into yourself. 

And, suddenly, maybe it isn’t so bad to miss someone. If you didn’t miss them, you might’ve missed out on the person you are today. 

But, then again, maybe you don’t miss them. Maybe you just miss the way they made you feel. 

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