u/AdRoyal5286

I spent 3 years with my ex. The relationship was filled with laughter, dates, side jokes, everything you can think of the “perfect” couple. We didn’t argue and I honestly thought she was the one and she said the same to me. I supported her when she was in nursing school. Always took her out to eat and make sure she was fed because she didn’t have time to work during nursing school. Every holiday we spent it together for 3 years straight. I thought we will be together until we die. To be honest, the whole relationship she was the chaser. The one who was scared of losing me.

Then.. she finally becomes a nurse. I started to notice that she started taking a longer time than usual to text me back. Yes, that sounds clingy but our communication dynamic for 3 years was that we text each other basically almost every hour, when we went on break at work, when we got off. Those started to slowly fade. I brought it up multiple times and all I got was “I’m trying. I’m sorry.”

My anxious side came out the last 3 months of our relationship. I started becoming the chaser.

The breakup happens. I remember that day vividly. She implied breaking up but couldn’t even say the words “break up”. All I got was “I need time.” It shattered me. I was so miserable for a week straight.

I ended up breaking no contact a week after the breakup. I see her and she says “I missed you so much.” We ended up seeing each other 3 times post breakup and they were all great times. After a month of being in limbo. I asked her “are we together? We do relationship things but we aren’t together.”. She says “no. Have fun.”

I then stated my boundaries that I can’t be in limbo anymore and go straight into no contact.

After 12 days, my anxious side broke out AGAIN. I just wanted clarification because she never told me the reason for the breakup. She texted me “you don’t have to wait for me. I care about you and I think you deserve someone who can choose you without hesitiation and that’s not me right now.”

I was so hurt but I assumed that was final. I was forced to move on.

2 months later she texted me… “hey just want to make sure you’re doing okay. I really thought about it again and I want to really try.” I texted her back “we talk in person.”

Few days go by and we greeted each other normally. After that she went straight to the point. “I’m sorry blah blah blah. Let’s try again blah blah blah.”

I responded to her “look away from me because I’m so mad. Why now? Do you understand what the fck I went through? I couldn’t eat or get out of bed for days. Now that I’m finally almost healed you want to come back? You told me to move on. I did. Why did you put me in this position? I’m literally talking to somebody right now and now you. At this point I need time to think. I’m not doing this because you did this to me, but i genuinely don’t fcking know what to do now. You want to come back but at the same time I’m talking to someone that is choosing me without hesitation. I don’t know. Give me time.”

My girlfriend of three years transitioned from an anxious pursuer to completely distant after being placed on a permanent 12-hour night shift as a nurse. In person, she was still affectionate, loving, and attentive, but over text, she pulled away completely. When I pressed for clarity, she broke down, saying she loved me but "didn't know" what she was feeling. After weeks of hot-and-cold reunions, I sent a long ultimatum text. She ultimately told me "not to wait." Is this a classic Fearful Avoidant deactivation due to extreme burnout, or did my own anxiety push her over the edge? For three years, our relationship was exceptionally happy, affectionate, and stable.

Historically, she exhibited an Anxious-Preoccupied attachment style—frequently seeking reassurance, saying "I love you," and valuing constant communication—while I leaned secure. Everything began to shift three months ago when she graduated nursing school and was assigned to a permanent 7 PM to 7 AM night shift. The transition shattered her routine; she stopped going to the gym, isolated herself from family, and suffered severe physical exhaustion. While our time together in person remained warm and affectionate, her communication over text deteriorated. I felt increasingly lonely, triggering my own anxious tendencies and leading to a repetitive cycle: I would bring up the distance, she would cry, apologize, and promise she was trying, things would briefly improve, and then her exhaustion would reset the pattern.

The final strain began in mid-July when a patient died on her shift, coinciding with a message I sent explaining my hurt over the distance. Two days later, we talked in my car. She sobbed, told me she loved me, and insisted she didn't want to break up, but repeatedly admitted, "I don't know what I'm feeling." Unable to say the words "we're broken up," she hesitated for several minutes before stepping out of the car, only to text me 26 hours later calling me the best thing that ever happened to her. Over the next two weeks, we cycled between silence and emotional dates where she held my hand, kissed me, and talked about future plans like going to the county fair. Yet, the moment I asked where we stood, she froze and said she needed time. After a great date watching Spider-Man, I asked for a one-month trial to rebuild. She agreed and cried, but when her distance returned over text the next day, panic took over. I sent a massive, emotional text asserting my worth, declaring strict silence, and warning her that she was letting go of someone who loved her deeply.

After twelve days of agonizing silence, my anxiety got the better of me, and I reached out asking if she wanted me to wait. She replied stating that I didn't have to wait, adding that I deserved someone who chose me without hesitation, which she couldn't offer while figuring out what she wanted for herself. I replied respectfully to accept her closure and leave things on a peaceful note, and her aunt later reached out to reassure me that she would contact me when she was ready. I am left struggling to understand if this complete shutdown represents a Fearful Avoidant deactivation triggered by night-shift burnout and the death of her patient, or if my own anxious protest behavior and ultimatums pushed her into a discard by overwhelming her with guilt and shame. I would really appreciate insight on whether her "I don't know" stance is a true avoidant shutdown, and how I should navigate strict No Contact moving forward.

Him: I love you so much. I have shown you in every way I can. I loved you for 3 years, through school, through breakup, through silence, through every moment we had the last few weeks. I’ve shown you every way I could be patient, give you space, supporting you, being proud of you. I meant every word. I can’t be the only one fighting anymore. I’m not angry, I’m just tired. You say you don’t know what you want but I think you do. I know you love me, I know you miss me, I know when we’re together in person laughing, holding hands, enjoying each other presence, it just feels right. I know you know all of that. What you’re scared of isn’t me. It’s yourself. You’re scared you’ll fail. You’re scared you’ll disappoint me. You’re scared that if you say “yes” and we get back together it all falls apart. You’ll prove every dark thought you ever had about yourself to be true. BUT HERES the thing you’re not seeing. While you’re standing still, frozen, that I can’t wait for someone who doesn’t know. Not because I stopped loving you. Not because I met someone else, but because I can’t hold onto someone who isn’t holding me back. One day, maybe next week, maybe next year you’re gonna come home from a long shift, exhausted, feet hurting, and you’re going to reach for your phone to text me. And I won’t be there. You’re going to want to tell me about your day, and there will be no one on the other end who knows you like I DO. You’re gonna think about the way I used to massage your legs after a rough shift, when I looked at you and told you how proud am I. The way I fought for you when most men would’ve walked away months ago. And you’re going to realize that you let go of someone who would have never let go of you. I love you ❤️ I wanted to be with you. But I also want to be with someone who knows without hesitation that they want me back. Absolute breakup and silence will be real this time. I won’t reach out, I won’t text you to check in to see how you’re doing, I won’t plan our future dates together, I won’t plan any gifts or snacks for you. I PROMISE YOU. I will not break it. Not for a birthday, not for a holiday. Not because I had a rough day and miss your voice, the ONLY thing that will end this silence is YOU. Not because I don’t care but because I can’t keep letting you give me bread crumbs and meeting me halfway. I love you with all my heart. Good luck with everything ❤️”

Him: I love you so much. I have shown you in every way I can. I loved you for 3 years, through school, through breakup, through silence, through every moment we had the last few weeks. I’ve shown you every way I could be patient, give you space, supporting you, being proud of you. I meant every word. I can’t be the only one fighting anymore. I’m not angry, I’m just tired. You say you don’t know what you want but I think you do. I know you love me, I know you miss me, I know when we’re together in person laughing, holding hands, enjoying each other presence, it just feels right. I know you know all of that. What you’re scared of isn’t me. It’s yourself. You’re scared you’ll fail. You’re scared you’ll disappoint me. You’re scared that if you say “yes” and we get back together it all falls apart. You’ll prove every dark thought you ever had about yourself to be true. BUT HERES the thing you’re not seeing. While you’re standing still, frozen, that I can’t wait for someone who doesn’t know. Not because I stopped loving you. Not because I met someone else, but because I can’t hold onto someone who isn’t holding me back. One day, maybe next week, maybe next year you’re gonna come home from a long shift, exhausted, feet hurting, and you’re going to reach for your phone to text me. And I won’t be there. You’re going to want to tell me about your day, and there will be no one on the other end who knows you like I DO. You’re gonna think about the way I used to massage your legs after a rough shift, when I looked at you and told you how proud am I. The way I fought for you when most men would’ve walked away months ago. And you’re going to realize that you let go of someone who would have never let go of you. I love you ❤️ I wanted to be with you. But I also want to be with someone who knows without hesitation that they want me back. Absolute breakup and silence will be real this time. I won’t reach out, I won’t text you to check in to see how you’re doing, I won’t plan our future dates together, I won’t plan any gifts or snacks for you. I PROMISE YOU. I will not break it. Not for a birthday, not for a holiday. Not because I had a rough day and miss your voice, the ONLY thing that will end this silence is YOU. Not because I don’t care but because I can’t keep letting you give me bread crumbs and meeting me halfway. I love you with all my heart. Good luck with everything ❤️”

My Story

For almost three years, she and I had a happy, stable relationship. We talked every day, called each other, saw each other 1–3 times a week, went out to eat constantly, and built our lives around each other. We laughed, held hands, hugged, kissed, supported each other, and talked about our future, including getting a dog.

I was very involved in her life. I supported her through nursing school, took her out to eat, bought her meals and gifts, encouraged her when she doubted herself, and helped take care of her emotionally. She was affectionate and loving toward me, and communication was a major part of our relationship.

The relationship started changing after she became a nurse and was permanently placed on the 7 PM–7 AM night shift. She was exhausted, became more distant from her family and hobbies, and had less emotional energy. We still had great moments together in person, but when we were apart, communication became inconsistent.

I repeatedly told her I felt lonely and missed the connection we used to have. She apologized and said, “I’ve been trying.” Things would improve temporarily, then the cycle would repeat.

Even during those final months, she still acted loving when we were together. She brought me gifts, laughed with me, held my hand, kissed me, and talked about our future. I never felt like she had completely stopped loving me.

July 14 — The Breakup

After I explained how lonely I had become, we met in my car to talk.

She cried throughout the conversation and told me:

“I love you so much and care for you.”

“I don’t want to do this.”

But she kept saying:

“I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

She never directly said she wanted to break up. Eventually, I told her that if she got out of the car, we were broken up. After hesitating and crying, she got out.

Later, I sent her a final message expressing my love and appreciation for our three years together.

The next day, she replied:

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I love you.”

July 16–24 — Reconnecting

Two days later, we saw each other again. We laughed, had dinner, held hands, and talked honestly. She told me she needed time. She even admitted that she had reached for her phone earlier because she wanted to text me before remembering we had broken up.

After a week of silence, I reached out.

We went to dinner, got ice cream, laughed, held hands, and kissed. She told me:

“I missed you.”

I told her I would reconnect with her slowly and patiently.

She said:

“I will try.”

After that, our communication gradually started coming back. She began asking about my day, sending good-morning messages, checking on me, telling me about work, asking who I was with, and showing jealousy when I joked about impressing someone.

She started communicating with me during her night shifts again.

It felt like pieces of our old relationship were returning.

August 3 — The Final Decision

We went out to eat and watched the new Spider-Man movie together. She was physically affectionate throughout the night, leaning on me and putting her legs on mine. She even offered to buy me a shirt because she thought it would look good on me.

Later, we talked seriously about where we stood.

She told me:

“I don’t know what I want and I don’t want to keep you waiting because that will hurt you.”

I asked her to give us one month to try again.

She said:

“Yes.”

Then she started crying and hugged me tightly.

But later, she still confirmed that we weren’t officially together.

She said she wanted to keep in touch, but I finally realized I couldn’t keep fighting alone.

I told her I loved her, that I had supported her through school, nursing, the breakup, the silence, and everything afterward. I told her I knew she loved me and that when we were together, things still felt right—but I couldn’t keep waiting for someone who wasn’t sure about choosing me.

I told her that one day she might come home exhausted from a long shift, reach for her phone to tell me about her day, and realize I wasn’t there anymore.

I told her I loved her, but I needed someone who knew without hesitation that they wanted me.

Then I made the hardest decision:

I stopped chasing her.

I told her there would be absolute silence this time. No checking in, no birthday message, no holiday message, no gifts, no planned dates.

I wasn’t doing it because I stopped loving her.

I was doing it because I had spent three years showing her that I would never give up on her.

Now, for the first time, I needed to let her decide whether she was willing to fight for me too.

My Story

For almost three years, she and I had a happy, stable relationship. We talked every day, called each other, saw each other 1–3 times a week, went out to eat constantly, and built our lives around each other. We laughed, held hands, hugged, kissed, supported each other, and talked about our future, including getting a dog.

I was very involved in her life. I supported her through nursing school, took her out to eat, bought her meals and gifts, encouraged her when she doubted herself, and helped take care of her emotionally. She was affectionate and loving toward me, and communication was a major part of our relationship.

The relationship started changing after she became a nurse and was permanently placed on the 7 PM–7 AM night shift. She was exhausted, became more distant from her family and hobbies, and had less emotional energy. We still had great moments together in person, but when we were apart, communication became inconsistent.

I repeatedly told her I felt lonely and missed the connection we used to have. She apologized and said, “I’ve been trying.” Things would improve temporarily, then the cycle would repeat.

Even during those final months, she still acted loving when we were together. She brought me gifts, laughed with me, held my hand, kissed me, and talked about our future. I never felt like she had completely stopped loving me.

July 14 — The Breakup

After I explained how lonely I had become, we met in my car to talk.

She cried throughout the conversation and told me:

“I love you so much and care for you.”

“I don’t want to do this.”

But she kept saying:

“I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

She never directly said she wanted to break up. Eventually, I told her that if she got out of the car, we were broken up. After hesitating and crying, she got out.

Later, I sent her a final message expressing my love and appreciation for our three years together.

The next day, she replied:

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I love you.”

July 16–24 — Reconnecting

Two days later, we saw each other again. We laughed, had dinner, held hands, and talked honestly. She told me she needed time. She even admitted that she had reached for her phone earlier because she wanted to text me before remembering we had broken up.

After a week of silence, I reached out.

We went to dinner, got ice cream, laughed, held hands, and kissed. She told me:

“I missed you.”

I told her I would reconnect with her slowly and patiently.

She said:

“I will try.”

After that, our communication gradually started coming back. She began asking about my day, sending good-morning messages, checking on me, telling me about work, asking who I was with, and showing jealousy when I joked about impressing someone.

She started communicating with me during her night shifts again.

It felt like pieces of our old relationship were returning.

August 3 — The Final Decision

We went out to eat and watched the new Spider-Man movie together. She was physically affectionate throughout the night, leaning on me and putting her legs on mine. She even offered to buy me a shirt because she thought it would look good on me.

Later, we talked seriously about where we stood.

She told me:

“I don’t know what I want and I don’t want to keep you waiting because that will hurt you.”

I asked her to give us one month to try again.

She said:

“Yes.”

Then she started crying and hugged me tightly.

But later, she still confirmed that we weren’t officially together.

She said she wanted to keep in touch, but I finally realized I couldn’t keep fighting alone.

I told her I loved her, that I had supported her through school, nursing, the breakup, the silence, and everything afterward. I told her I knew she loved me and that when we were together, things still felt right—but I couldn’t keep waiting for someone who wasn’t sure about choosing me.

I told her that one day she might come home exhausted from a long shift, reach for her phone to tell me about her day, and realize I wasn’t there anymore.

I told her I loved her, but I needed someone who knew without hesitation that they wanted me.

Then I made the hardest decision:

I stopped chasing her.

I told her there would be absolute silence this time. No checking in, no birthday message, no holiday message, no gifts, no planned dates.

I wasn’t doing it because I stopped loving her.

I was doing it because I had spent three years showing her that I would never give up on her.

Now, for the first time, I needed to let her decide whether she was willing to fight for me too.