I never thought I would be the kind of person to even ask myself a question like this. When I got engaged to my fiancé three years ago, I was certain. Certain that he was the right choice, that we would build a life together, that the past was just that—the past. But lately, I find myself thinking about my ex more than I want to admit. It’s not that I don’t love my fiancé. I do. He’s kind, he’s supportive, he makes me laugh even when I’m stressed out of my mind. But no matter how hard I try, there’s still this small, stubborn part of my heart that belongs to someone else. And I don't know what that says about me.

Sometimes it hits me out of nowhere. Like when a song we used to listen to together comes on the radio. Or when I pass a certain coffee shop where we spent hours just talking about everything and nothing. And then all the memories come flooding back—the good ones, the ones that make my chest ache in that bittersweet way. I start wondering if he ever thinks about me too, if he ever misses those stupid inside jokes we had or the way we used to plan our future like it was some big adventure. It's confusing, because I don’t want to go back to that relationship. It ended for good reasons. We fought too much, we wanted different things, and in the end we hurt each other more than we helped. Still, part of me misses what we were before it all fell apart.

I’ve tried to tell myself that it’s normal. That maybe everyone who’s been in love before feels this way sometimes. That just because you move on doesn’t mean you erase the love you had. But deep down, it makes me feel guilty. Like I’m betraying my fiancé without even doing anything. He deserves all of me, not a part of me that’s stuck looking backward. And the worst part is, he’s done absolutely nothing wrong. He’s patient with me, he’s honest, he loves me in a way that feels safe and steady. Maybe that’s part of the problem. My relationship with my ex was never steady—it was chaotic and passionate and sometimes toxic. But it made me feel alive in a way that calm love doesn’t always manage. And I hate that part of me still craves that mess sometimes.

There are nights when I lie awake next to my fiancé and wonder if I’m making a mistake. If maybe the reason I cant let go of my ex is because some part of me believes he was “the one” and I just let him go because it got too hard. But then I remember all the pain, all the crying, all the days I felt like I was losing myself just trying to keep him. Loving him wasn’t healthy, even if it was intense. And isn't love supposed to be more than just fire? Isn’t it supposed to be peace too? I know that rationally, but my heart... my heart still hasn’t fully caught up sometimes.

Sometimes I wonder if it's just nostalgia lying to me. Making me remember only the good parts and forget all the nights I cried myself to sleep wondering why I wasn’t enough for him. Nostalgia is a liar like that, painting the past prettier than it really was. I try to remind myself of the facts, the way he would leave me hanging for days, the way he made promises he never kept. But emotions aren't logical, and memories are trickyy. No matter how many times I tell myself I’m better off now, there’s still that ache when I think of what could’ve been, what we almost had.

I haven’t talked to my ex in a long time. Part of me wants to reach out just to see if he’s okay, but I know that’s a bad idea. I know that opening that door would only bring more confusion and hurt. So I keep my distance, for my sake and for my fiancé's. He doesn’t deserve half my heart. He deserves all of it. And maybe loving someone doesn’t always mean you’re supposed to be with them. Maybe sometimes love stays even when the person doesn’t. I guess that’s the lesson I’m still learning.

So yeah, maybe it is normal to still love your ex a little. Maybe it’s just part of being human. Love doesn’t have an off switch. But the important thing is what you do with those feelings. I choose to honor my past without letting it control my future. I choose to stay, to grow, to love the man who’s standing in front of me, not the memory of the one who left. And maybe one day, that stubborn ache will fade into something softer, something that doesn't hurt so much. Until then, I’ll keep moving forward, even when my heart sometimes wants to look back.

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