I gave my all to someone who admitted she still had feelings for her ex

I met a girl back in January. I liked her a lot, and I genuinely believed she felt the same way about me. A mutual friend told me that I would be the first "normal" boyfriend she’d ever had, as she had a history of past partners who treated her poorly, were neglectful, or had questionable behavior. Despite my age, I was apparently more mature than her (she was two years older). At the time, I didn't see anything wrong with that because, unfortunately, I idealized her, believing she wanted a healthy, lasting relationship just as much as I did.

I learned how to love with her; I discovered my own way of loving and realized how intense it was. I came to understand that I only wanted one woman in my life, that I had no interest in being intimate with multiple people over time or jumping from relationship to relationship—naively, I just wanted one lifelong partnership. As months passed, I remained intense, telling her thousands of times how much I loved her, and she would respond sweetly, matching my energy. I loved our dynamic; she was very affectionate in public, which I found deeply endearing. She would tell me that I was pure-hearted, that she loved that about me, and that I was too good for this world. I opened up completely, sharing very private parts of my life and vulnerabilities. Even though I don't consider myself unattractive, I genuinely used to feel that no woman would ever choose me. She chose me, and I constantly reminded her that she had a good person by her side. I don’t get into trouble, I keep healthy hobbies, and I’ve been working as a web developer since I was 16. I had plenty of reasons to consider myself a good catch, and I constantly expressed how grateful I was that she chose me.

In March, something shifted: her ex reached out, saying he missed her. As far as I know, that was all he said. She told me about it, and when I asked if she still had feelings for him, she said no and told me she wanted to marry me. I trusted her completely and didn't get upset.

Over the following months, her warmth began to fade. I started thinking it was my fault, or maybe the stress of her studies, or countless other things; I grew anxious and even more intense. I kept telling her I loved her, but her responses became colder and drier—it felt more like mere politeness than genuine reciprocation. It started feeling as if her friends were more important than I was, frequently making excuses about not wanting to see me or anyone else because she "needed to be alone." Driven by anxiety, I began insisting on seeing each other more and showing affection in public (gentle kisses or minimal physical touch). She didn't like holding hands, linking arms, or kissing in public—and these weren't passionate make-outs, just simple, sweet kisses.

Once she established a zero-physical-contact rule in public, I started pushing for private moments together. She wasn't interested in addressing the issue, while I kept searching for solutions. Private spaces were scarce, and whenever there was an opportunity, she wouldn't make any effort. I started feeling like she was canceling plans just to avoid seeing me, and it even crossed my mind that she was only using me for sex. That hurts deeply today, because I view my intimacy with genuine innocence and only ever wanted to share that with the person I would marry.

Three weeks ago, I was at her place trying to talk through all of this. I was struggling to respect her boundaries because I was desperately seeking affection—affection I simply wasn't receiving. I kept asking for alone time, which annoyed her, and I wanted to kiss her in public since our time together was so limited, but it frustrated her; she eventually admitted that she had only been accepting my kisses out of politeness.

During that conversation, she shut down completely. I tried to ensure she didn't feel attacked, but she became defensive. She didn't want me to touch her to ease the tension and pulled away. For an entire week, I felt she actively avoided seeing me. I fell apart, crying uncontrollably and drowning in guilt for pushing boundaries and for yearning to feel loved without success. I expressed this to her, and I thought things might improve because she apologized and told me that all she wanted was to hold me and lie in bed together without doing anything else.

We agreed to meet that Monday just the two of us. Everything seemed fine until I realized she was trying to cancel; she claimed she was feeling unwell and I believed her, but later a friend asked if I was hanging out with their group that same day. That's when the pieces came together: she wasn't sick, she just didn't want to hang out with me. In the end, the group didn't meet up, nor did she come over because she supposedly had to look after her grandmother, so we rescheduled for Tuesday. On Tuesday, she refused to come to my place, so I went to hers. She didn't want to go out, but I just wanted to see her. The hard part was that at her house, physical contact and kissing were off-limits because her mother was there—and the worst part is that her mother didn't even know we were dating (we spent the entire six-month relationship like that). Because I chose to respect her boundaries, I stayed calm, lying next to her at a distance while still longing to be close. When I tried to hold her, she went stiff and moved my arm away without saying a word, which crushed me.

Later, I suggested going out for ice cream. I insisted a little, she resisted, so I dropped it and felt completely defeated. Eventually, she agreed. On the way there and at the parlor, she acted very affectionate, accepting my kisses and holding my arm. I thought it was a sign of things improving, but in reality, she was just afraid of my emotional withdrawal and wanted to avoid complaints. She pointed out that I felt distant, and I explained that while I felt hurt, I was still enjoying the moment. I walked her home and went back to my place, completely drained, to sleep.

I wanted to see her that Friday to watch a movie and eat sushi, just as she had requested. On Thursday, she told me she had something very important to tell me on Friday. I was left in complete suspense with crippling anxiety, expecting the worst and unable to sleep. I asked if she was planning to break up with me, and she replied that it depended on what I said to her. The next day, she came to my house (walking two kilometers while rehearsing what to say) carrying a bag with my belongings; I knew right then that everything was over. We went somewhere quiet; she was completely rigid, refused to let me touch her, and I was shaking with nerves. She confessed that she was still thinking about her ex, that she felt nostalgic on certain days, and that because of this, she couldn't love me the way I deserved. I told her that if she wanted things to work, we could fix it without ending the relationship. That's when she admitted that when her ex reached out back in March, she felt happy, and that marked the beginning of our downfall. I was devastated. Despite my attempts to salvage things, she refused, leaving me with one final, crushing remark: that she wished she had never said yes when I asked her to be my girlfriend.