I was thinking about this the other day. The idea of moving on from a relationship after you’ve ended things but doing that while you’re still friends with that person.

It’s a tricky one and I feel like I’ve done it several times in varying degrees of intensity and all followed a similar formula.

Things ended with my ex and I thought really hard about what I wanted and what I needed following that relationship ending. Both with myself and from him, from our friendship. I knew that I couldn’t bear the idea of him not being in my life. I knew that right away. So initially, we just tried to carry on messaging as though not much had changed. But of course things had.

And there were now all these boundaries in place. I couldn’t tell him (or probably shouldn’t) that I was in the shower and something about how my hand grazed against my naked body made me think of him touching me or how when I fell asleep at night I’d close my eyes and think of being curled against him.

It felt like having the sexual side of things being off limits was difficult for me. But so was some of the emotional stuff. I liked going for walks with him and we went from seeing each other roughly once a week into never at all (it’s been nearly two years and I’m pretty sure I’ve only seen him once in that time, by accident). I found it a struggle to hear about his efforts to move on from me and it made me feel worse. Every time I noticed that he was a little bit vague or wasn’t telling me things in a level of detail that he used to it used to make me feel worse. Laughing at something funny he said would plunge me into despair.

So it wasn’t planned but I decided that in order for a friendship to continue there had to be a clear distinction between when we were romantically involved and when we are Just Friends. And to do that involved a big break in communication.

And that break in communication meant that I was focusing just on myself. On what I needed. I’d read books and listen to music and having flirty conversations with others and go out and meet those people. And at times I felt like I was keeping a mental list of all the things he missed out on my life like if we ever talked again I’d remember to tell him about the time I did this one cool thing or had this other great conversation. But soon, that mental list got too long to remember and I got out of that habit. I needed that.

When it felt like I’d no longer be expecting to see him on my lunchtime walks or when I no longer felt a pressing urge to tell him every intimate thought I’ve ever had, when it felt like I just miss hearing his thoughts on crime books or Netflix shows or whatever else it was then I reached out to him again. There was a moment where I had to stop and ask myself if there’s any chance that I’m reaching out again in order to reconnect with him in a romantic or sexual way. If yes, leave it a bit longer, it isn’t fair on your or him. If no, congrats on moving on from your ex.

That isn’t to say that I don’t still feel things for him or that I don’t still have moments where I feel twinges of longing or hurt or whatever from him. But for the most part? That bit of distance meant that I was able to grow into those areas that he used to fill.

I miss him constantly. And I’m crying a little bit as I’m typing this because I do really miss him and what we had. It’s different now but I know it has to be for there to be any level of healthiness to our friendship. Letting go wasn’t easy but in doing so I do get little hits of friendship from him. It’s worth it to me.