I am getting married soon, but I find myself dreaming of my ex almost every night. Usually, when people turn thirty, they expect to see their lives with much more clarity. But for me, it is the exact opposite. Almost every night around 3:00 AM, I wake up, stare at the ceiling, and feel an unbearable weight crushing my chest. For weeks now, I have been lying awake asking myself the same heavy question: Am I suffering from karma because of the wrong choices I made in my past?
From the outside, my life looks peaceful and on track. I have a stable job, full support from both of our families, and I am marrying a truly wonderful woman at the end of this year. But on the inside, my mind is a complete mess. I am trapped between guilt, regret, and the lingering shadow of a short, storm-filled relationship I went through.
This is my honest confession—a truth I cannot share with anyone in my real life.
Seven Peaceful Years and a Silent Crack
My current partner—and soon-to-be wife—is an incredible human being. We have been together for seven long years. She is gentle, caring, loves me unconditionally, and treats my parents as if they were her own. My family adores her.
However, by our sixth year together, the romantic flame between us began to fade. There were no loud arguments, no dramatic betrayals, just a slow and terrifying erosion of passion. I brought up marriage a few times, but she hesitated because she wanted to secure a better job first. Even though I understood her reasoning, the feeling of being rejected repeatedly drained the love out of me, leaving behind mostly gratitude, affection, and duty.
By our seventh year, after a long period of silent treatment, we decided to move into separate apartments. Our relationship at that point felt like two old friends sharing a roof—peaceful, but cold.
And that was exactly when I met the other girl.
An Intense Eight-Month Romance and Emotional Exhaustion
She was five years younger than me, attractive, bold, and full of life. Coming out of a stale seven-year routine, her presence felt like a breath of fresh air that took my breath away. We fell for each other very quickly, intensely, and naturally.
I made the firm decision to break up completely with my long-term partner to pursue this new relationship openly. In the beginning, everything was beautiful. Within just a few months, we introduced each other to our families, discussed buying a house, and planned for marriage. My parents liked her, too.
But because we rushed into things, we never took the time to truly understand each other’s personalities. She was young, stubborn, and had a very strong ego. Whenever we had a minor disagreement, instead of sitting down to talk, her default reaction was to give me the silent treatment or threaten to break up.
Our eight-month relationship turned into an exhausting cycle:
- A few days of passionate love and happiness.
- Followed by a full week of silent treatment and painful arguments.
I lost count of how many times I watched her cry. Every time we had an exhausting fight, I lay awake feeling regretful, deeply missing the peace I used to have with my previous partner.
Letting Go and Returning to Safety
After eight months of complete emotional exhaustion, we decided to call it quits.
The truth is, throughout those eight chaotic months, my long-term ex still texted me occasionally to check in. She had no idea I was seeing someone else; she simply thought we were taking a break and patiently waited for me to return.
When I broke up with the new girl, I didn’t give myself any time to heal. Instead, I took the safest path possible: I ran straight back to my long-term partner.
She welcomed me back with open arms and unconditional forgiveness, taking care of me and my family as if nothing had ever happened. My parents breathed a huge sigh of relief, and everyone silently agreed never to bring up that “eight-month gap” again. We set our wedding date for the end of this year. Everything on paper seemed to be back on track.
Sleepless Nights: Why Am I Dreaming of My Ex Before My Wedding?
But the harsh reality is that my mind is completely drained.
Logically, I know my fiancée is the best choice for my life. She will be a devoted wife, a wonderful mother, and I know for a fact that I will never find anyone who loves me as selflessly as she does. I no longer have any romantic feelings for the second girl, nor do I ever want to go back to that exhausting drama.
Yet, my subconscious mind refuses to let me go.
Every time I close my eyes, I dream about that younger girl. I dream about our explosive fights, the tears on her face, and the harsh words we said to each other. I wake up in the middle of the night with my heart racing and sweat dripping off me. Looking back now, I wonder if what I’m feeling is something similar to cognitive dissonance—the uncomfortable feeling that comes when your actions don’t line up with your own values.
- What if I had lowered my pride back then?
- What if I had been more patient and gentle with someone who was still young and emotional?
- Did I cause deep emotional damage to her and then just walk away?
The guilt of making her cry, combined with the shame of standing next to my fiancée while carrying these heavy thoughts, is eating me alive. I have tried everything, even using mild sedatives just to get a few hours of sleep, but the moment I fall asleep, the nightmares return.
Choosing My Wife and Moving Forward
My wedding is coming up at the end of this year. I am $100\%$ certain that I will never hurt my partner again. For the past seven years, she has given me her youth, her patience, and her unconditional love. She deserves a husband who is whole, and I am fully committed to bringing happiness to the woman I have loved for all these years.
I know that reaching true peace of mind and completely clearing away the shadows of the past will still take time. These nightmares and feelings of guilt are perhaps the final hurdle I must face to learn how to let go entirely. I choose to face this burden head-on—no more running away, and no more allowing it to disrupt the future my fiancée and I are building together. The past is officially closed, and my devotion, responsibility, and love belong to only one person from this day forward.
Over to you: If you have ever experienced emotional turmoil or needed time to heal your heart before making a major commitment like marriage, how did you learn to truly let go? I would really appreciate hearing your thoughts and experiences in the comments below.