The Heartache of Regret: When Love Lingers…

Breaking up with someone you love is never painless. To be quite honest, it’s one of the most emotionally charged and painful experiences that anyone can endure. But it’s not just the loss of a relationship; it’s the pain derived from losing an individual who held a central place in your heart. It’s about mourning the loss of someone you cared for and shared the most intimate parts of yourself. It’s like finishing a book that you never want to end, or returning home at the end of the best holiday of your entire life.

And the problem is that the decisions we make in the heat of the moment are not always the right decisions. Plus, a decision made under pressure can lead to a separation that was probably not the right decision at the time. And this is where I find myself – looking back on a relationship that was probably as perfect as a relationship can be. Because, let’s face it, human beings are flawed – not polished versions of perfection, and that means even great relationships are never perfect.

The Pain of Regret

But the strange part is that a relationship that was characterised by joy and laughter can be so fragile. A wrong decision; a cruel word; a gutless text. Then, it’s over…

I told myself, I’d be strong; wounds heal; time cures all. But it doesn’t. A gulf in your life can’t be filled with work, holidays, running and an extensive gym routine. No plaster can ever fix the loss of a relationship where the connection was so strong.

Yet, I can’t help wondering if I had acted differently, tried harder, been less reactive and communicated better, then we might still be together. Perhaps, we would have worked through the challenges. ‘What ifs’ bring the most pain.

You see, the pain of regret isn’t just about the loss of a relationship, it’s about questioning your own actions, when you know it was probably your own mistake. And I’m not so delusional to fail to see my terrible error of judgement. A single decision, a snap judgement and everything changed.

Moreover, what makes the break even harder is that I still love him. The feelings never dissipated. Time failed to offer a cure. And the worst part is that feelings can grow stronger. You really don’t know what you’ve got, ‘til it’s gone.

I think about him all the time; I can’t go to Bolton Abbey without remembering the things we said or what we did. Films we watched together and laughed at emphasised our shared sense of humour and silliness. He understood me in ways no one else could.

My realisation: love doesn’t end because a relationship does. It remains, etched into the corners of your heart. You can try to convince yourself, you’re better off alone, and it was the right decision. But who are we kidding, the emptiness burns.

It’s the little things I’ll miss the most; me devouring popcorn, whilst he begs me to pace myself. Walking up one of the Yorkshire Peaks, we pledged to do all three! We discussed politics, music, food; nothing was off the table. We got lost in conversations, and there were those quieter moments when we were just together. No words.

The most challenging part is his absence and the reminder that he’s moved on. Even his name feels like ripples through my heart. I miss him; I miss us; I miss the friendship and connection.

Regret: it’s a small word that contains a tidal wave of emotion. When Shakespeare wrote, “It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all”, I question the Bard’s sanity. Does the experience of love equate to the pain of loss? I’m not so sure.

For now, I’ve got to reconcile myself to my mistake, acknowledge I made a cataclysmic error and close my eyes tightly and wish for a Hollywood end…

If I stand on the mound of a baseball field, I can hope that he’ll dash onto the field, in front of thousands of fans, giving me the kiss that I remember all too vividly.

Or, in the manner of Sleepless in Seattle, I’ll go to the top of the Empire State Building on Valentine’s Day and pray he appears to declare his love.

Or better still, I’d love it if he was inspired by Rachel in Friends, and he was there to greet me when I return from America with an oversized bunch of flowers.

I can only dream. Humour me, I live in Earby!