We met online when we were both breaking down
In the messy world of relationships, some stories don’t start because people want to break the rules. They start because loneliness drives two strangers into an emotional affair . My story is exactly like that—we stepped into each other’s lives in a gray area that society judges harshly. We became each other’s “secret someone.”
Before we connected online, he and his wife were already physically separated, keeping the marriage only on paper for the sake of family obligations. On my end, I was completely checked out and feeling disconnected in my own domestic life. We met on the internet, fell for each other digitally, and it took a while before we fully understood each other’s real situations.
Once the whole truth came out, we were both mature enough to see how dangerous this could get. So, we made a mutual deal:
- This would strictly be an online relationship to help us get through our current loneliness.
- No real-life meetings, no going past the digital screen, no expectations.
- If we ever had to cut ties, we would just deal with a temporary heartbreak and move on.
We honestly believed the physical distance and the digital world would act as a safety shield to protect us from real pain. But we completely overestimated our logic, and we severely underestimated how powerful genuine affection could be.
The most addictive part was the connection through a screen
As it turned out, the strict boundaries we set didn’t stand a chance against real emotional intimacy. Over time, our daily messages stopped being just casual check-ins. A deep, invisible bond started growing between us. We talked about everything under the sun—our daily stress, the exhaustion of routine, and the deepest, darkest corners of our hearts that we had never opened up to anyone else.
To escape our messy realities, we built a parallel world in our minds—a space meant just for the two of us, free from societal judgment, family duties, and the heavy chains weighing down our shoulders. Long-distance gifts sent during holidays became the only tangible proof that the other person actually existed in the physical world.
The deeper this relationship grew, the stronger our emotional attachment became, bringing an unspoken need to possess each other. This love felt so pure and real that it brought immense joy, but at the same time, it tore us apart with guilt every single day. Every time I locked my phone screen and faced my actual life, the helplessness and guilt swallowed me whole.
In the end, logic won, and I ended it coldly to save us both
It has been six months since we finally called it quits. It’s hard to put into words how I feel right now. It isn’t relief; it’s just a heavy, quiet emptiness that lingers every day. We both knew that if we kept following our hearts, it would eventually destroy us and everyone around us. After months of exhausting mental battles, our logic finally won over our feelings.
We let a natural distance grow between us first. But to end it for good, I chose the most brutal way: I wiped out everything, blocked him on all platforms, and spoke to him with absolute coldness. I didn’t do it because I stopped caring. I had to use that harshness as a weapon so we would both hurt enough to walk away without looking back or making each other suffer anymore.
Living through the days after the breakup, I finally understand that bitter quote: “Some people die at thirty but aren’t buried until they’re eighty.” My body is still here, going through the daily motions like a programmed machine, but my soul feels completely shattered inside.
I can’t forcefully erase him, but I can’t hold onto him either
The truth is, you can’t just erase someone you cared about with all your heart. Sometimes, a voice inside me says, “Just lock him away in the darkest corner of your mind and focus on enjoying your life right now.” But every time I try to forcefully suppress those memories, I end up loathing myself.
I refuse to act like what we had was nothing, for a few big reasons:
I loved him with open eyes: I chose to love him while being fully aware of how messy and hopeless the situation was.
I gave it everything: I poured my entire heart, energy, and sincerity as a woman into him.
It wasn’t just a fling: The time we shared was the happiest I had been in a long time, and I genuinely thought about a future for us.
If I force myself to forget or pretend it was just a meaningless online distraction, it feels like I’m disrespecting my own emotions and treating myself cheaply. I can’t choke out something I loved so deeply. But on the flip side, I can’t carry his shadow forever. I have a family and a child to think about. My child deserves to grow up in a healthy environment and a truly happy home.
Trying to find a way out when your soul is completely spent
The hopelessness of this whole situation sometimes pushes my mind into really dark places. There are moments when I feel so spent and exhausted that I just want to write one final letter, pour out all this hidden pain, and leave this reality for good just to find peace. But every time I look into my child’s innocent eyes, I freeze. A child growing up without a mother faces the loneliest, most painful path in this world. A mother’s love wins over the selfishness of my own pain; I simply cannot leave my child behind.
I often ask myself, is it really okay to live like this for the rest of my life? Holding a deep love for one person in your heart while living with someone else?
Sometimes, I think about making a compromise with time: I will live quietly, fulfill every duty to my child, and wait a few decades until they are grown and independent. Then, maybe I will choose to live a quiet, solitary life through legal separation. Being alone in my own space feels like it would be much more comfortable and free than wearing a happy mask every single day. It might be a heavy price to pay for my choices, but it feels like the only way left to find peace for a soul that is just so incredibly tired.