u/Ok_Reporter7549

My roommate and I recently moved into a new apartment. Immediately after getting the keys, I used white sage to cleanse the entire empty space. After about a week of living here, my roommate and I used blue sage to cleanse ourselves, our phones, and the entire home. We requested for all negative energy to be cleansed from us, our space, and our belongings. This was on August 8th, 2026.

Beginning just a couple hours later and continuing throughout the next few days, nearly everything I knew and loved blew up in my face and left my life. My (now ex) partner and I had been taking a break since the middle of mercury retrograde, and just that night/next day they permanently ended things. Two of my closest friends of many years stabbed me in the back in the midst of this. Situations I thought were on good terms switched to bad, and people I loved and trusted and cared about began to resent me over misunderstandings/lies from outside parties and left.

I still have wonderful friends that are there for me and a beautiful home, but aside from that, most things in my life have seemingly gone downhill since that day. Did I do something wrong? How do I fix this?

Fair warning: this is going to be LONG. Apologies in advance.

I (20F) and my partner (20M) have recently seen the demise of our relationship, and I have never struggled as badly or felt as lost as I do now. For context, this was both of our first relationship. Not only that, but both of our first time even interacting with anyone else romantically — no previous talking stages, no attempted relationships, nothing. We began as best friends after meeting through a mutual friend a couple years back. We became very close late last year, to the point that from December through February my partner (then close friend) would disappear for days at a time and return to me being pissed. He would apologize and this whole situation repeated several times until I finally got fed up enough to put my fears aside and tell him I knew his avoidance was because he liked me and was scared of that.

He admitted it at this point, and we decided that we would give being more than friends a shot. I told him, however, that since he had been so terrible to me so many times in the recent past, I would not allow it to be official until he had fully regained my trust. Immediately, our relationship took a full 180. We lived two hours away from each other then and he didn’t have a car, but we would text and call all the time and I would travel to be with him for a few days every couple weeks. Obviously, physical things moved slowly, since everything was so extremely new to both of us. Our first kiss (both with each other and in general) was preceded by us lying parallel to one another and staring into each others’ eyes for ten minutes straight, and we had spent an entire 24 hours together before this with absolutely nothing physical happening. A relationship at our age where neither of us had any experience felt awkward at times, but it mostly just came with a sort of mutual understanding and a youthful excitement surrounding all of it. One of my friends told me it sounded like their first relationship in early high school, but in a sweet, wholesome way. We learned everything together throughout our six-month-long-relationship , and having that sort of connection wasn’t something I ever thought I would be able to find at 20 years old.

I thought things would be easier and more normal for us once he came home from school for the summer. He spends the summer at his parent’s house in the suburbs of the city where I live on my own, only a 40 minute drive or train ride from me. I was so very wrong in my hopes. I had not accounted for his extremely strict parents that did not allow him to have sleepovers even with friends (at 20. Yeah I know) and also did not think about his internship that began a month or so into the summer that had him working an 8-5 every day of the week. It became way harder to even text or call when we couldn’t be together. His parents are the type to be in their children’s business and constantly asking who they’re talking to and why. Needless to say, things became way more difficult for both of us.

To add to this, despite it having been several months and him having definitely regained my trust, we still weren’t official. We were exclusive and acted like we were in a committed relationship, and all that was missing was the label. I’ve come to realize, though, that the label means a lot more than I thought. It would have given me a sense of security when he was so busy and when we weren’t able to see each other often, and although it wouldn’t change the physical aspects of our situation, it would have significantly helped me mentally.

This was not his fault. I don’t want to give him too much credit — although he did care about me very much, there were so many situations where he could have done so much more. I made so many more sacrifices than he did throughout the entire relationship. We both knew that. The label, however, was mostly by fault of my own. I had not told any of my friends about us. His whole circle of friends knew. We never really discussed the lack of label until the end, but when we did, he told me he had never said anything because he did not want to pressure me or make me uncomfortable. He thought that since I hadn’t told anyone there was no way I would be ready to make it official, and though a conversation could have solved this, it’s a very fair assumption. I am insanely open and communicative about everything, and yet I never said a word about labels. I would not have felt very confident in bringing it up if I were him, either.

Earlier in the summer, when I realized we would not be able to have a sleepover at either of our homes because of his family, I suggested we get an Airbnb somewhere drivable for a weekend and stay there. He could tell his parents it was with friends (he was allowed to do this. Yeah I know), and we could have just one normal weekend where we weren’t having to plan our entire days around making sure we made specific train times since they only ran hourly, and where we could sleep in the same bed like we had always done before he came home. He agreed and we became excited at the prospect until he looked at his calendar and realized there was not a single weekend until the very last one of the summer that he did not have plans at least one of his two days off. I lost all hope. Even if he supposedly had that final weekend open, who was to say? It was so far out, surely he had something he was forgetting about. I did not want to get my hopes up.

Following this, he told me towards the end of the summer that he may be able to lie to his parents and spend the night between one of two weekends and that he had a good feeling about the possibility. I felt hope for the first time in a while. It had been hard seeing each other only once every week or two for a few hours.

Our last time spending a normal day together was perfect until I asked him if he would still be able to spend the night in the coming weekends. His response was simply No. He did not feel comfortable lying to his parents. I did not understand this and I lost all hope for the rest of the summer. I got really quiet for the rest of the night because i was sad and did not want to break down. He took this as me being mad, and he did not text me at all after leaving. He did not tell me goodnight. That was the first time he had ever done that.

The next day I explained the situation and explained why I felt so sad. He didn’t really respond until he got home from work that day, and when he did, he just told me that maybe I was right — maybe it really WOULDN’T get better, maybe he wouldn’t ever be able to give me what I want or need or deserve, maybe it was unfair for me to be with someone like him. This came out of nowhere; usually I would be negative and worried and he would tell me it would all be ok and that We were ok. I immediately dropped everything and drove to his house. That was the hardest conversation I’ve ever had. It was so out of nowhere that I, as someone usually very composed and calm during difficult conversations, was sobbing and shaking and begging him to listen to me. I tried to tell him that I knew it sucked but there were only a few more weeks until he moved back into his apartment and things could be normal again. Of course he wouldn’t really listen to someone in such a bad headspace saying something so serious, and he ended up just ending the conversation after we talked in circles for hours. It was in this conversation that we decided despite never having been official, we could call it a breakup. We both understood the depth of our relationship and connection. I saw him cry that night, and he never cries. He hadn’t cried in well over a year, and hadn’t cried in front of anyone else for way longer than that. We hugged for several minutes before separating and going home.

I texted him that night and told him I wanted to talk when we were both in a better headspace, and he agreed. We spoke a few days later and decided to try again. Things stayed tough, and he ended up cutting it off for good a week or so later. I kept composure during that conversation, but at the end, I let it slip that I “think I had loved him” as he was walking out the door.

I know how this seems, but it truly was not in any sort of manipulative way. I had regretted not saying it any sooner, and it was true. I don’t believe something as sacred and special as love is something that should go unsaid, and I knew that would be the last opportunity. He turned around and came back and hugged me again, really tight, and rubbed my back. I took this as him saying it back in his own way — I mean, you can’t really verbally tell someone you love them as you’re leaving them.

The exact circumstances of him ending it for good this time felt so temporary to me that despite him saying it was permanent, I still viewed it as something we could work out. I guess, for him, our conclusion that we could remain distant friends and stay on speaking terms was cancelled out by my profession of love, but I never knew this. I texted him after his major personal reasons for ending it had passed and never received a response. Our shared mutual friend told me that my partner had informed him that he was done and would not be answering me. My roommate (who knew then. I finally told people after it ended) texted him and asked him to respond to me. She told him at the very least he owed me clarity and communication. He did, and he told me that he needed more space and that perhaps we could be friends down the line, but nothing more than that. He told me that I could answer, but that that would be his last response. I laid everything out in my response to that, telling him we had been on entirely different pages and I did not understand and felt I had received no closure. I told him how badly I was hurt and how his assumption that neither of us having reached out for the past several weeks meant we were at a mutually understand was wrong; I had only done that in order to give him space and let him focus on his personal matters.

Despite claiming he wouldn’t respond again, he did. He said he felt bad not answering that message, but then answered harshly anyway. He told me I had changed the circumstances in me telling him I loved him, and that if I did not understand the situation then at least part of it had to be because I did not want to. I was sad, but I knew that was the end of us. I did not respond.

Later he posted on his Instagram story with “Never Going Back Again” by Fleetwood Mac. One of my friends (without my knowledge) responded to it, and he told her I had been weird and that maybe I should not have been texting his friends about him. I was insanely lost until she showed me the conversation and the screenshots he had sent her — they were from my own close friend of seven years who had nothing to do with anything, who I suppose had sent them to the mutual friend my now ex and i shared (who the aforementioned friend of mine barely even knew. Just a side note), who had cropped them to make them look bad and sent them to my ex.

Obviously, neither of these “friends” remain in my life anymore. I despise them both, and will never understand why they would do what they did to me. That hurts as well, but it isn’t what this is about. What this is about is how badly it hurts to know that someone I had loved so dearly who I know loved me back now holds resentment towards me for things that weren’t even true. The statements in the screenshots were not even negative — I was simply sad and hoping that one day my ex would come back and we could reconvene, but they of course were twisted to make me look bad. I ended up texting my ex one final message to clarify, but I’m sure he does not believe me, not if he has several people that I thought I could trust feeding him bad information and lies. He did not respond.

I am now dealing with romantic heartbreak as well as platonic heartbreak from two angles, plus the extra platonic heartbreak of losing a partner that began as a best friend. I did deserve so much better and I know that. He was right initially. He truly could not give me what I wanted, or what i needed, or what i deserved. But god, I loved him. I have never had someone talk to me the way he did or look at me the way he did or touch my skin as softly and gently as he did. I was finally unlearning childhood trauma with his help — trauma that had me convinced for my entire life that love was not real, and now I am just in an even worse spot than I started. I know I deserved so much better, but all I want is him. I just want him back. Everyone tells me it will get better with time, but I’m not sure if I even want it to get better if he isn’t in my life. All i want to do is be able to talk to him. I miss my friend, I miss my partner. What am I supposed to do?

Fair warning: this is going to be LONG. Apologies in advance.

I (20F) and my partner (20M) have recently seen the demise of our relationship, and I have never struggled as badly or felt as lost as I do now. For context, this was both of our first relationship. Not only that, but both of our first time even interacting with anyone else romantically — no previous talking stages, no attempted relationships, nothing. We began as best friends after meeting through a mutual friend a couple years back. We became very close late last year, to the point that from December through February my partner (then close friend) would disappear for days at a time and return to me being pissed. He would apologize and this whole situation repeated several times until I finally got fed up enough to put my fears aside and tell him I knew his avoidance was because he liked me and was scared of that.

He admitted it at this point, and we decided that we would give being more than friends a shot. I told him, however, that since he had been so terrible to me so many times in the recent past, I would not allow it to be official until he had fully regained my trust. Immediately, our relationship took a full 180. We lived two hours away from each other then and he didn’t have a car, but we would text and call all the time and I would travel to be with him for a few days every couple weeks. Obviously, physical things moved slowly, since everything was so extremely new to both of us. Our first kiss (both with each other and in general) was preceded by us lying parallel to one another and staring into each others’ eyes for ten minutes straight, and we had spent an entire 24 hours together before this with absolutely nothing physical happening. A relationship at our age where neither of us had any experience felt awkward at times, but it mostly just came with a sort of mutual understanding and a youthful excitement surrounding all of it. One of my friends told me it sounded like their first relationship in early high school, but in a sweet, wholesome way. We learned everything together throughout our six-month-long-relationship , and having that sort of connection wasn’t something I ever thought I would be able to find at 20 years old.

I thought things would be easier and more normal for us once he came home from school for the summer. He spends the summer at his parent’s house in the suburbs of the city where I live on my own, only a 40 minute drive or train ride from me. I was so very wrong in my hopes. I had not accounted for his extremely strict parents that did not allow him to have sleepovers even with friends (at 20. Yeah I know) and also did not think about his internship that began a month or so into the summer that had him working an 8-5 every day of the week. It became way harder to even text or call when we couldn’t be together. His parents are the type to be in their children’s business and constantly asking who they’re talking to and why. Needless to say, things became way more difficult for both of us.

To add to this, despite it having been several months and him having definitely regained my trust, we still weren’t official. We were exclusive and acted like we were in a committed relationship, and all that was missing was the label. I’ve come to realize, though, that the label means a lot more than I thought. It would have given me a sense of security when he was so busy and when we weren’t able to see each other often, and although it wouldn’t change the physical aspects of our situation, it would have significantly helped me mentally.

This was not his fault. I don’t want to give him too much credit — although he did care about me very much, there were so many situations where he could have done so much more. I made so many more sacrifices than he did throughout the entire relationship. We both knew that. The label, however, was mostly by fault of my own. I had not told any of my friends about us. His whole circle of friends knew. We never really discussed the lack of label until the end, but when we did, he told me he had never said anything because he did not want to pressure me or make me uncomfortable. He thought that since I hadn’t told anyone there was no way I would be ready to make it official, and though a conversation could have solved this, it’s a very fair assumption. I am insanely open and communicative about everything, and yet I never said a word about labels. I would not have felt very confident in bringing it up if I were him, either.

Earlier in the summer, when I realized we would not be able to have a sleepover at either of our homes because of his family, I suggested we get an Airbnb somewhere drivable for a weekend and stay there. He could tell his parents it was with friends (he was allowed to do this. Yeah I know), and we could have just one normal weekend where we weren’t having to plan our entire days around making sure we made specific train times since they only ran hourly, and where we could sleep in the same bed like we had always done before he came home. He agreed and we became excited at the prospect until he looked at his calendar and realized there was not a single weekend until the very last one of the summer that he did not have plans at least one of his two days off. I lost all hope. Even if he supposedly had that final weekend open, who was to say? It was so far out, surely he had something he was forgetting about. I did not want to get my hopes up.

Following this, he told me towards the end of the summer that he may be able to lie to his parents and spend the night between one of two weekends and that he had a good feeling about the possibility. I felt hope for the first time in a while. It had been hard seeing each other only once every week or two for a few hours.

Our last time spending a normal day together was perfect until I asked him if he would still be able to spend the night in the coming weekends. His response was simply No. He did not feel comfortable lying to his parents. I did not understand this and I lost all hope for the rest of the summer. I got really quiet for the rest of the night because i was sad and did not want to break down. He took this as me being mad, and he did not text me at all after leaving. He did not tell me goodnight. That was the first time he had ever done that.

The next day I explained the situation and explained why I felt so sad. He didn’t really respond until he got home from work that day, and when he did, he just told me that maybe I was right — maybe it really WOULDN’T get better, maybe he wouldn’t ever be able to give me what I want or need or deserve, maybe it was unfair for me to be with someone like him. This came out of nowhere; usually I would be negative and worried and he would tell me it would all be ok and that We were ok. I immediately dropped everything and drove to his house. That was the hardest conversation I’ve ever had. It was so out of nowhere that I, as someone usually very composed and calm during difficult conversations, was sobbing and shaking and begging him to listen to me. I tried to tell him that I knew it sucked but there were only a few more weeks until he moved back into his apartment and things could be normal again. Of course he wouldn’t really listen to someone in such a bad headspace saying something so serious, and he ended up just ending the conversation after we talked in circles for hours. It was in this conversation that we decided despite never having been official, we could call it a breakup. We both understood the depth of our relationship and connection. I saw him cry that night, and he never cries. He hadn’t cried in well over a year, and hadn’t cried in front of anyone else for way longer than that. We hugged for several minutes before separating and going home.

I texted him that night and told him I wanted to talk when we were both in a better headspace, and he agreed. We spoke a few days later and decided to try again. Things stayed tough, and he ended up cutting it off for good a week or so later. I kept composure during that conversation, but at the end, I let it slip that I “think I had loved him” as he was walking out the door.

I know how this seems, but it truly was not in any sort of manipulative way. I had regretted not saying it any sooner, and it was true. I don’t believe something as sacred and special as love is something that should go unsaid, and I knew that would be the last opportunity. He turned around and came back and hugged me again, really tight, and rubbed my back. I took this as him saying it back in his own way — I mean, you can’t really verbally tell someone you love them as you’re leaving them.

The exact circumstances of him ending it for good this time felt so temporary to me that despite him saying it was permanent, I still viewed it as something we could work out. I guess, for him, our conclusion that we could remain distant friends and stay on speaking terms was cancelled out by my profession of love, but I never knew this. I texted him after his major personal reasons for ending it had passed and never received a response. Our shared mutual friend told me that my partner had informed him that he was done and would not be answering me. My roommate (who knew then. I finally told people after it ended) texted him and asked him to respond to me. She told him at the very least he owed me clarity and communication. He did, and he told me that he needed more space and that perhaps we could be friends down the line, but nothing more than that. He told me that I could answer, but that that would be his last response. I laid everything out in my response to that, telling him we had been on entirely different pages and I did not understand and felt I had received no closure. I told him how badly I was hurt and how his assumption that neither of us having reached out for the past several weeks meant we were at a mutually understand was wrong; I had only done that in order to give him space and let him focus on his personal matters.

Despite claiming he wouldn’t respond again, he did. He said he felt bad not answering that message, but then answered harshly anyway. He told me I had changed the circumstances in me telling him I loved him, and that if I did not understand the situation then at least part of it had to be because I did not want to. I was sad, but I knew that was the end of us. I did not respond.

Later he posted on his Instagram story with “Never Going Back Again” by Fleetwood Mac. One of my friends (without my knowledge) responded to it, and he told her I had been weird and that maybe I should not have been texting his friends about him. I was insanely lost until she showed me the conversation and the screenshots he had sent her — they were from my own close friend of seven years who had nothing to do with anything, who I suppose had sent them to the mutual friend my now ex and i shared (who the aforementioned friend of mine barely even knew. Just a side note), who had cropped them to make them look bad and sent them to my ex.

Obviously, neither of these “friends” remain in my life anymore. I despise them both, and will never understand why they would do what they did to me. That hurts as well, but it isn’t what this is about. What this is about is how badly it hurts to know that someone I had loved so dearly who I know loved me back now holds resentment towards me for things that weren’t even true. The statements in the screenshots were not even negative — I was simply sad and hoping that one day my ex would come back and we could reconvene, but they of course were twisted to make me look bad. I ended up texting my ex one final message to clarify, but I’m sure he does not believe me, not if he has several people that I thought I could trust feeding him bad information and lies. He did not respond.

I am now dealing with romantic heartbreak as well as platonic heartbreak from two angles, plus the extra platonic heartbreak of losing a partner that began as a best friend. I did deserve so much better and I know that. He was right initially. He truly could not give me what I wanted, or what i needed, or what i deserved. But god, I loved him. I have never had someone talk to me the way he did or look at me the way he did or touch my skin as softly and gently as he did. I was finally unlearning childhood trauma with his help — trauma that had me convinced for my entire life that love was not real, and now I am just in an even worse spot than I started. I know I deserved so much better, but all I want is him. I just want him back. Everyone tells me it will get better with time, but I’m not sure if I even want it to get better if he isn’t in my life. All i want to do is be able to talk to him. I miss my friend, I miss my partner. **What am I supposed to do?**