It had been four years since I had seen him.

We had texted for a while after I left, keeping things light, familiar… unfinished.
But eventually, life moved on. He married a lovely woman- ironically, my children’s pediatrician- and our communication faded into distance.

Last spring, I reached out because my book was three months away from launching, and I wanted to thank him for the friendship that grew out of our relationship.

Not to reopen anything.
Just to close the loop… with honesty.

And when I walked into that restaurant, I wasn’t nervous.

I was at peace.

See, on paper- Joe was everything I should have been looking for in a husband.

He had a good job.
He was a hard worker.
Intelligent. Confident. Handsome.
Kind in a steady, grounded way.
Generous with his time, his energy, his presence.

The kind of man most people would say, “Don’t let that one go.”

And for five months, we dated casually.

No chaos. No games. No heartbreak. Just… good.

And that’s what made it so hard.

Because there was nothing wrong. But something wasn’t fully right.

So I made a decision most people don’t understand. I ended it.

Not because he failed me.
Not because something broke.

But because I knew…I could have settled.

I could have built a life that looked beautiful from the outside.
I would have been safe.
Taken care of.
Adored.

And I would have spent years quietly knowing…

I wasn’t loving him the way he deserved to be loved.

That was one of the first times in my life
I didn’t stay out of comfort.

I didn’t stay out of fear.
I didn’t stay because it was “good enough.”

I chose honesty.

For both of us.

Because here’s the truth we don’t talk about enough:

Sometimes the hardest relationships to walk away from
always the toxic ones (though I do wish more people would leave those!)

The hardest ones can be the ones that are almost right.

The ones where nothing is obviously broken-
but something is missing.

And if you’re not careful…
those are the ones you stay in the longest.

We are taught to endure.

To be grateful.
To not ask for too much.
To hold onto something good because what if nothing better comes?

So we stay.

We stay in relationships where we are not fully seen.
Not fully felt.
Not fully connected.

And we convince ourselves it’s enough.

But “enough” isn’t love.

Not real love.

Real love doesn’t leave you questioning.
It doesn’t feel partial.
It doesn’t ask you to override your knowing – just to maintain stability.

And here’s the part that may be uncomfortable to hear:

When you stay with someone you cannot fully love…
you are taking up space meant for someone who can.

For them.

And for you.

Joe deserved a woman who would look at him
and feel certainty.

Not hesitation.
Not “almost.”
Not “this makes sense.”

He deserved someone who would love him
in a way I couldn’t.

And I respected him enough to let him go.

That’s the part of love we don’t celebrate enough.

Not the holding on—

the releasing.

Because letting go isn’t always about walking away from something bad.

Sometimes it’s about refusing to stay in something that keeps both people
from experiencing something better.

So when I sat across from him four years later, there was no regret. Just clarity.

I didn’t lose something.

I honored something.

If you are in a relationship where you are constantly trying to convince yourself…

If you are staying because it’s safe, or logical, or “should” be enough…

If you feel that quiet knowing that something isn’t fully there- 

listen to it.

Because love isn’t something you force into place.

And it isn’t something you hold onto out of fear.

It’s something you meet fully.

Or you have the courage to release – realizing that letting go of “almost”- so both people have the chance at fully!

With all my love, xoxo, J