[iamsally]

I’ve known a guy since we were 11 – we were classmates – and we are now almost 20. I gave him my first kiss.

He liked me in 7th grade but it was a kids’ thing and we dated for 3 days, however, I know I hurt him.

I always felt attracted but I was after other guys.

All these years we’ve been going out with our old classmates and doing things together and we always had a connection and a lot of things in common) although he never really opens up.

Some months ago he asked me to go to his house and although he was still a virgin and we didn’t have sex, we were pretty close to and I was scared of falling too hard over him so I stopped it there and I know I made a lot of mistakes and said/did things I regret. I lied to his face when he asked me something about liking him.

Then I realized I was still in love with him and that I probably lost him forever and did the worst thing I could have done: I told him how I felt, not face to face, not on the phone, but by e-mail because I’m a coward.

I know he’s shy but it seems ridiculous to me that he’d say he only liked me as a friend after I opened my heart to him.

As I mentioned before, we have a lot of things in common, from bands and TV shows we like to our bedroom walls color no, it isn’t white).

Somedays he’s really nice and others he just acts like a douchebag. Sometimes he’s very immature.

And it hurts that a guy I’ve known for so long tried to use me for sex or because he was just too desperate to get rid of his virginity.

How can I get over him and stop believing he’s my one true love and we could have something beautiful when he obviously doesn’t care?

[April Masini, your AskApril]

You answered your own question. You only have to listen to yourself when you say, “…he obviously doesn’t care.” That’s the beginning and the end of your question.

Why would you spend your time with someone who obviously doesn’t care? You need to work on you so that you find your own true value and only give yourself (and that means your time, your phone calls, your texts, your e-mails, your dates, your kisses and sex if you choose) to someone who cares about you enough to matter in a positive way in your life.

Focus on your own life and make every minute and every day a productive and positive one. Eliminate people who don’t care about you from each hour of your day. It’s a discipline, but it’s worth it. Try it. You’ll be a lot happier.

[Ethan Morales]

That answer is blunt but it’s the truth most people spend years avoiding. What April’s really saying is: when someone shows you they don’t care, that’s your closure. You don’t need more conversations, explanations, or a chance to fix it you just need to believe what their actions already told you.

From everything you said, this guy has been part of your life for years, and that kind of long, intertwined history can feel magnetic. You shared your first kiss, you grew up together, and there’s nostalgia in every part of that story. But nostalgia isn’t love it’s memory. What’s hard is that your heart built a whole narrative around “what could’ve been,” while he stayed grounded in what was: friendship, some attraction, and confusion.

Here’s what stands out: you recognized he doesn’t open up, he’s inconsistent, and sometimes he treats you badly yet you still picture a version of him that could have been “the one.” That’s not uncommon. When someone becomes our emotional blueprint early on, we start equating their attention with destiny. But it’s not destiny; it’s attachment plus timing.

To really move forward, you have to accept two things: You didn’t lose “the one.” You just lost someone you hoped would become the one. The person who’s meant for you won’t need convincing, explanations, or years of confusion to care. So yes do exactly what April said: take your energy back. Pour it into yourself, into hobbies, ambitions, friendships things that give back. Every time you catch yourself romanticizing the “what if,” replace it with “what’s real.” Ask: did he make me feel safe, seen, valued? Or mostly anxious, uncertain, and small?

It’s okay to grieve the fantasy. It’s okay to miss him. But don’t confuse that ache for proof that he’s special it’s proof that you cared deeply. And that capacity for love? That’s yours to give again, to someone who can handle it.

[Serena Vale]

Hey love,

Reading this feels like opening an old diary , full of the kind of emotions that feel so big when you’re young because they’re your first taste of real love, real confusion, and real heartbreak. You were so sincere, so hopeful, and so scared of messing it up — and honestly, that’s something everyone goes through at least once.

Back then, you were trying to understand what love even meant. You cared deeply for someone you’d known almost your whole life — someone who felt safe and familiar, someone who saw pieces of who you were becoming. It’s natural that you’d mistake that connection for something lasting. But what you were really learning was how love should feel when it’s mutual — open, honest, and steady.

You weren’t wrong for stopping things when you felt scared. You weren’t wrong for sending that email either — that was bravery in its own messy, imperfect form. You did the best you could with the emotional tools you had at that age.

Looking back now, it’s clear he wasn’t emotionally ready to meet you where you were. He didn’t know how to handle your honesty, so he retreated behind “just friends.” It probably felt like rejection at the time, but in hindsight, that was just two people growing at different speeds.

The truth is, he wasn’t your one true love — he was your first real lesson in it. He showed you what it feels like to want more, to risk vulnerability, to realize that chemistry and history aren’t enough if both hearts aren’t showing up equally.

And now, years later, you can honor that version of you — the girl who kissed him, who overthought the what-ifs, who cried after hitting “send” — because she was trying to understand something big and beautiful.

She didn’t lose him. She outgrew him.

And that’s where the real healing begins. ❤️

—Serena Vale

[Natalie Noah]

It’s heartbreaking when someone who’s been woven into so many years of your life turns out to love the closeness but not offer the care your heart deserves. When I read your story, what stands out most is how much emotional energy you’ve poured into him the memories, the history, the “what-ifs,” the ways you tried to protect yourself, and the ways you later opened up. But when someone shows you inconsistency warm one day, cold the next, kind in one moment and dismissive in another that tells you exactly where they stand. Not because you aren’t valuable, but because they aren’t capable of meeting you where your heart is. And that’s something no amount of shared childhood or common interests can fix.

What hurts the most is often the dream, not the person. The picture you’ve held of “what you two could be” feels deeper, safer, more soulful than what he has actually given you. And letting go of that dream can feel like losing a future you wanted. But there’s a gentle truth here: someone who truly sees your worth would never make you question whether they care, and they would never treat your vulnerability like an inconvenience. The moment you begin placing your attention back on yourself your healing, your habits, your passions, your friendships, you will slowly feel the grip of this fantasy loosen. And in that space, you’ll make room for someone who doesn’t need years of history to decide you matter.

[Member]

Posts