Dear Aunt Bubba,

In 2014, I did something I said I would never do. I fell in love with a married man, and he fell in love with me. For the next 8 years, we would have this on again off again affair full of a tremendous amount of love, passion and companionship. He was my best friend. At one point, he and his wife were separated for 2 years, but as his best friend, I encouraged him to do everything he could to fix his marriage. How silly is that? Yes, I was sad when he went back to his wife, but I was also happy for my friend. Not long after that, I would meet the man I would marry. Yes, my friend was happy for me, too, but deep down, he was still in love with me and hurting.

There’s rarely a day that goes by that I don’t think of him. He was the love of my life, and in this season of singleness, I miss him every day. He ultimately made a choice to cut me out of his life completely, and while that cut me to my core, I can’t fault him for that. I had a dream about him last night. His son was getting married and somehow I found myself there as a guest. He didn’t see me until the end of the reception and mouthed to me from across the room that he missed me and loved me.

Deep down, I know I’m still in love with him, but he hurt me. I’m mostly rambling, and I’m sure I’m missing him extra since I’m single right now. Thanks for listening, but what do I do with these feelings?

Sincerely,

In Love with the Past

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Dear In Love with the Past,

Thank you for trusting me with something this tender. What stands out to me isn’t just that you miss him. It’s that you’re grieving someone who was woven into the fabric of your everyday life for eight years. That’s a long time to share conversations, inside jokes, dreams, routines, and friendship with someone. Even when a relationship is complicated or couldn’t become what you wanted, the loss is still real.

You described him as your best friend before you described him as the love of your life. I think that’s significant. Often, what we miss isn’t only the romance. We miss having one particular person who knew us deeply.

The dream you created makes total sense to me. Dreams have a way of bringing unfinished chapters back to the surface. A wedding is especially symbolic, even if it hasn’t happened in real life. His son getting married could represent life continuing without you, another reminder that his family’s story kept moving forward while your place in it disappeared. Your mind may simply be processing that reality again.

You also said something that caught my attention:

“He ultimately made a choice to cut me out of his life completely… I can’t fault him for that.”

That tells me two things can be true at once. First, I believe he did what he believed was necessary for the life he chose. Second, it still wounded you in a profound way. Those truths don’t cancel each other out. Sure, some days you make him out to be the villian in order to acknowledge what happened broke your heart, but I also wonder if you’re carrying two different kinds of grief.

The first is grief over him. The second is grief over the version of yourself that existed when he was in your life. That woman had someone to text. Someone who understood her. Someone who made her feel chosen, even if the circumstances were painful. Perhaps you didn’t have that same connection with your husband after you got married, and that’s what made the pull back to this previous love strong.

When you’re single, it’s natural for your mind to revisit a season when you felt deeply connected to someone. This dream may simply be reminding you that you’re hungry for companionship. You have this beautiful tendency to romanticize ordinary things. You have a nostalgic soul and you don’t just remember people; you remember the feeling of an entire season. That’s a true gift!

It also means memories can feel incredibly alive. When you dream about him, it can feel as though your heart has been dropped back into 2018 instead of waking up in 2026.

Allow me to challenge one sentence:

“He was the love of my life.”

Maybe he was the greatest love so far. I don’t say that to diminish what you had. Eight years is eight years. I truly believe your greatest love story is yet to come, and I would hate for the pain and grief you’re feeling now try to convince you that you’ve met your last chapter.

And if there isn’t another romance, I still believe there are deep friendships and unexpected joys that haven’t found you yet.

One more thing. You said, “He hurt me.” Don’t let the nostalgia erase that. Our minds have a funny way of editing old relationships. They replay the sunsets and mute the unpleasant conversations. They remember the laughter but soften the loneliness. The fact that you still love him doesn’t mean the relationship was sustainable. Sometimes we can love someone with our whole heart and still recognize that the life built around that love couldn’t give either person peace.

For what it’s worth, if he could see you now, I suspect he’d recognize the same woman he loved, but he’d also see someone who’s grown through heartbreak, divorce, career changes, and rebuilding a life. You’ve become softer in some ways and stronger in others.

I don’t know whether he’ll ever cross your path again, but I do know this, my dear friend: the love you were capable of giving him didn’t disappear when he left. It’s still part of who you are. One day, whether it’s poured into another person, your family, your faith, or a community, that love will continue to matter.

So tomorrow, or the next day, if he crosses your mind, don’t have to fight it. You can simply smile at the good, acknowledge the hurt, whisper a prayer for wherever he is, and then keep walking toward the life that’s in front of you.

I’m here whenever the memories decide to visit.

Love. Give. Live.