When The Ghost of Your Ex Stops You From Falling In Love

Letting go is so damn hard.

There was a plan: keep two guys in rotation as we navigate being single. We’re not putting our eggs all in one basket. We’re learning about what we want and don’t want in relationships. We’re getting our boning on. We’re not setting down with any one person until we’ve moved out and started our new life on our own.

Well, we’re fucking up the plan.

I met Thomas a few months ago when Sean’s lack of communication irritated me enough to drop him from the dating roster. I was already dating Marc and things were going well. But conventional wisdom insisted that I keep dating multiple people.

The instant Thomas and I met, there was a spark. There weren’t any weird games or pretending to act cool. We talked nonstop. While he’s not what I’d consider “hot”, he’s quite attractive and looks fantastic in the Banana Republic dress shirts he wears to work. I adore kissing him. I also adore fucking him.

Thomas told me after our first date that he deleted the dating app. He wears his heart on his sleeve and is intentional with his actions. Being an empath, he takes in my verbal and non-verbal feedback with ease. For example, I told him he behaved like a different person by text than in person. After he explained that he couldn’t play off my body language by text, he adjusted his messaging style. Dude is on a quest for continuous improvement.

I’ve made it very clear that I’m not committing to him (or anyone) until I move out of my marital home. Which has a date of TBD. I told him that I’m not in a position to be in Girlfriend Mode. That’s a mental load that I can’t deal with right now. Realistically, it’s also because I’m not one hundred percent sure about him and I don’t want to be callous with his feelings by going all-in only to bail later.

Despite that, when we’re not together, we’re texting from morning until night. It’s what I wanted; someone who I could text dumb stuff and they’d do the same back during their day. Thomas only has eyes for me and I have zero questions about his intentions. He wants a partnership. It’s easy.

Thomas said he appreciates that I’m keeping things slow because he wouldn’t be able to maintain an appropriate pace. At the same time, he said “you will be mine” with just enough sociopathic zest to turn me on. But he’s patient and willing to wait. In the meantime, he’s making a concerted effort to learn about me on a deeper level and provide an outlet when I need one.

During all of this action, I ditched Marc (he’s a nice guy but it wasn’t meeting everything I wanted) and somehow let Sean slide back in. I haven’t spent time with Sean yet but suddenly he’s all up in my nuts messaging me constantly. It’s funny how I was so enamored with him and missed him after we lost contact. Now, I’m only interested in drinking wine in his ridiculously expensive house. His body blows my mind but he sucks at sex.

All of this means my dating life should be simple. I’ve got two guys, just like the plan. I’m refining what I want in a long-term relationship. I’m not settling down while I solidify my life.

Except Thomas is falling in love with me. I’m not saying this to be conceited; he’s purposely avoided telling me this because he knows my boundaries. But he has “futurecasted” our relationship and repeats how much he likes me. Homeboy has already imagined our lives intertwined with living together and our children meeting each other. Even he knows he’s mentally moving too fast.

And I’m falling for him too. Thomas is wonderful to me. He treats me so well. Damn if he had Sean’s body and kitchen furnishings, I’d marry the guy. But there are a few red flags that keep my head on straight while we progress this amazing relationship.

The wrench in all of this is that I’m still emotionally haunted by my ex-boyfriend, Jon.

Jon and I dated for a year, fell in love, and broke up because we were dealing with ending our marriages. I didn’t want to be an ill-fated rebound. Except before we even broke up he already pinpointed his next relationship and skipped over a rebound to a long-term relationship with someone else. Because we ended things amicably, I struggled to get over him.

It doesn’t help that he performed plastic surgery on me and I was stuck seeing him at subsequent follow-up appointments for months.

When those were over, I made an effort to follow a thirty-day No Contact rule. Had to detox Jon out of my system. It was hard. And it hurt. Like, curled up on the shower floor bawling in agony type of hurt. Except he still messaged me to say he still loved me, he struggled to get over me, and in the same breath, that we’re too different now to make it work (it’s not like I was even asking).

My thirty-day No Contact cycle repeated as Jon would message me out of the blue. Finally, I sent him a letter (old skool style) telling him that we both know he’ll be in his current relationship forever, he’s blissfully happy, so there is zero reasons for him to text me. All it does is hurt me. There is only one reason to ever, ever contact me: to say that he’s single and is open to trying a real relationship. Not that I’d jump back in; the point is that unless it impacts my potential future relationship, there is no reason to ever speak again.

Sigh. My birthday came and went. Jon texted to wish me a happy birthday with some sweet words. Fuck. Back to the thirty-day No Contact process from the start. For the first time ever, I didn’t reply. No, I’m not blocking him, because after an experience with someone else I’ve learned that not knowing if someone is messaging me makes me obsess even more. I’d rather just know.

It’s been fourteen months since we broke up. This breakup is like The Who’s final farewell tour that never ends.

What does all of this have to do with Thomas?

I learned that I can’t love two people at once. And I’m not completely over Jon. Even I’m cringing as I type that. I’m aware of how ridiculous it is to be in love with someone who has moved on (while claiming to be unable to fully move on from me). On behalf of anyone reading this, I assure you, I’m irritated by this just as much as you are.

What’s preventing me from really, truly letting go?

I’m scared of officially admitting that any chance we have is over. I love how I loved him. I’m emotionally hoarding something that doesn’t serve me because maybe one day, I’ll need it. But the reality is, I won’t. Jon is gone. But I can’t bear to give up that love.

I could easily fall in love with Thomas. He’s so good to me and I’m able to be my authentic self around him. It’s not my living situation that’s preventing me from going down that path. It’s my love for Jon.

Yup, go ahead and cringe. I’ll even toss in an eye roll on your behalf.

It’s absurd to not allow a relationship to emotionally progress because of feelings you’re carrying for a guy who decided to spend the next chapter of his life with someone else.

It took me a long time to recognize this problem. I’m holding on to the love of a ghost when Thomas is here, in the present, excited to be by my side. It’s like I’m outside of a condemned structure when it’s next to a building with its doors wide open and balloons inviting me in.

Let me make something clear. If Jon were to call me up and scream, “Let’s do this!”, I’m not saying I would agree. I’ve written before that I’m not down for being treated like a menu option.

I have to be honest with myself: I’m also not saying that I wouldn’t not agree (screw the Grammar Police with that double-negative sentence). That’s a tough truth pill to swallow.

Why am I holding on to someone who doesn’t care about losing me? Someone who is okay with me being gone?

Meanwhile, Thomas is in the other corner wanting to be the best person I’ve ever been with (his words). He wants to be the best lover I’ve ever had and the emotional stability I lacked in my marriage. He is putting in maximum effort to never lose me.

I’m kicking the can down the road on this emotional hot mess. Thomas knows there’s no commitment on my part until I’ve found a new home. Dealing with the emotional barrier of an ex-boyfriend’s ghost that is preventing me from progressing in our relationship is a Future Me problem.

Meh. I should call Sean and invite myself over to drink my emotions away.