When the facts are thin, but the fear is overwhelming.
Dear Joely,
I’m 22, and I’ve been with my girlfriend for three years. We met at university over lunch at one of the campus cafes, and we built a close bond from there. I’m completely in love with her.
Lately, she’s been a little distant and needing more time to herself. I understand, because she’s very busy with her new role as an associate wealth advisor. It’s an exciting step for her, and I’ve tried to be as supportive as I can.
Since we got together, we’ve always spent Friday evenings with each other. Over the years that has looked different, but we’ve always been together. Recently, though, she has begged off a few times, saying she’s tired or needs to catch up on work. It struck me as strange for a Friday, especially at our age, but I respected her decision.
Then, the other day, a friend of mine was acting oddly over lunch. It turned out he had something to tell me about my girlfriend. He’d seen her having dinner with another guy, and it looked cosy. He hadn’t wanted to be the one to break the news, but he felt that in my position he would want to know.
I’m gutted. On the night in question, she had told me she was catching up on paperwork and didn’t want to fall behind. I believed her.
When my friend told me, I panicked. My heart was pounding, I could hardly breathe, and I had to go home early from work because I couldn’t concentrate. I haven’t confronted her. I’ve seen her a few times since, but I feel like I’m watching myself from above, and things don’t feel the same. When her phone buzzes or rings while we’re together, I can’t help feeling it’s him.
My heart is shattered. I can’t focus on daily tasks, and I cry at night. I’m embarrassed to feel this way, but I do, because I love her.
Please help me find a way forward.
Yours
Dying inside
Dear Dying Inside,
First, a small but important distinction: your heart isn't shattered. It's terrified of being shattered. And at the moment, your imagination is doing a remarkably convincing impersonation of evidence.
Let's examine what you actually know.
Your girlfriend has been less available lately. She's started a demanding new job. She's missed a few Friday evenings. And a friend saw her having dinner with a man who wasn't you.
That's what you know.
What you don't know is who he was, why they were together, what happened afterwards, or whether anything romantic is going on.
Now, I'm not going to insult your intelligence by suggesting that everything is probably fine. A cosy dinner with an unidentified man, on an evening supposedly devoted to paperwork, deserves an explanation. But it doesn't yet deserve a conviction.
And you've already sentenced yourself to the worst possible outcome.
There's a peculiar cruelty to suspicion. It doesn't need proof to make you suffer. It simply moves into your head, rearranges the furniture and starts answering questions nobody has asked.
Every buzz of her phone becomes evidence. Every moment of distraction becomes confirmation. Every affectionate gesture becomes suspicious because, if she's being unfaithful, surely she must be compensating for something?
You can't win an argument with a story that keeps rewriting itself.
But here's something I want you to consider.
For three years, Friday evenings have belonged to the two of you. That's rather lovely. It's also possible that, at 22, your girlfriend is discovering she needs a little more room for herself, her career and other relationships.
A change in routine isn't necessarily a change of heart.
Nor does loving somebody entitle us to every Friday evening for the rest of their lives.
What troubles me isn't that she wanted time to herself. It's that, assuming your friend's account is accurate, she may not have been straightforward about how she intended to spend it.
And that brings us to the conversation you're avoiding.
You need to have it.
Not an interrogation. Not a dramatic confrontation with screenshots, timelines and the sort of questioning usually reserved for suspects in police custody.
Just an honest conversation.
Tell her you've noticed some distance between you lately. Tell her that a friend saw her having dinner with another man on an evening when you understood she was working. Tell her that you're upset and confused, and ask her what's going on.
Then do something extraordinarily difficult.
Listen to the answer.
Not merely for the words you most fear hearing. Listen to what she actually says.
She may have an entirely innocent explanation. She may have been less than truthful because she wanted an evening to herself and didn't know how to tell you. She may be struggling with the relationship. Or she may indeed be seeing someone else.
I can't tell you which. Neither can your friend.
And here's the uncomfortable part: you cannot protect yourself from an unwanted answer by refusing to ask the question.
You're already suffering as though you've lost her, while continuing to behave as though nothing has happened. That's a particularly miserable arrangement, and one that offers neither of you much chance of repairing anything.
One more thing.
You say you're embarrassed by how deeply this has affected you.
Why?
You're 22, you've spent three years loving someone, and you're frightened that the future you imagined together might disappear. Of course you're upset. Being young doesn't make love a rehearsal.
But please don't confuse the intensity of your fear with the accuracy of your suspicions.
Your feelings are real. Your conclusions are still provisional.
And if the answer turns out to be the one you dread, I promise you this: discovering that somebody hasn't loved you faithfully does not mean you were foolish to love them wholeheartedly.
For now, though, put down the imaginary evidence, stop conducting silent trials every time her phone vibrates, and talk to the woman you've spent three years getting to know.
She deserves the opportunity to tell you the truth.
And you deserve to hear it.
Yours, withholding judgement until the evidence is in,
Joely
