You Weren’t Robbed — They Were Just Passing Through
It’s a strange feeling, that hollow ache when someone you’ve just started connecting with suddenly disappears. A date, a spark, a few days or weeks of what felt like potential — gone. Maybe they ghosted, maybe they said it wasn’t right, maybe they just drifted away without much explanation.
And somehow, we’re left with more than sadness — we’re left grieving a vision. Not just the person, but what we thought they could be for us. We don’t often fall in love with who they are — we fall in love with who we feel we become when we’re with them. We fall in love with the version of ourselves that feels alive, wanted, held, seen. And so we don’t just lose them — we lose that reflection. That emotional peace they seemed to bring. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: this is still control. It’s still selfish. It’s still a form of co-dependency hidden behind what we think is love. Because real love isn’t "I love you for what you bring out in me." That’s not love — that’s a transaction. And when that feeling is gone, when they disappear, we scramble to get it back, not always because we loved them, but because we loved how we felt when they were near.
The mind races: What if we had just…? What if I didn’t say that? What if I was more relaxed, more playful, more… enough? We cling, not to who they were, but to who we imagined they might become for us. We try to mentally rewrite the ending. Control the outcome. Fix what went wrong — even if the other person has clearly walked away.
But whether they return or not doesn’t guarantee the future we pictured. It never did. That imagined relationship only existed in our mind, sculpted from potential, hope, and maybe even unmet needs. We fall for the story more than the person.
And in doing so — in chasing someone who no longer chooses us — we abandon ourselves.
What if, instead, we saw that brief connection for what it truly was — a moment, a memory, a shared experience? Something that added color to our journey, not define it.
Like a holiday.
We don’t get off a plane and blame a country for not becoming our forever home. We take the memories, the sights, the feelings — and we move forward. We don’t try to control the land or drag it into our future. We were simply visitors. So were they.
Most of our heartbreak doesn’t come from what was — it comes from what is no longer available. A future that was never guaranteed. And if we’re honest, we can’t be robbed of something that was never ours to begin with.
Still, our minds go back. Replaying what went wrong. Wondering what we should have done differently. And sure — reflection is healthy. If we were rude, reactive, or dismissive, we should take ownership and grow. But if we find ourselves obsessing, trying to rewrite history just to win back what wasn’t even fully real — we’re wasting precious energy that could be used to love and build ourselves.
Gratitude is the antidote. Gratitude for the moments shared. Gratitude that you felt something again. Gratitude for being open.
Because loving someone else — even briefly — is not a weakness. It means your heart is alive.
So bless them on their journey. Thank the experience. Let go of the fantasy.
And then turn that love back toward yourself.
Love yourself deeply — and the world will reflect that love back.