The one that got away is currently posting this comment.

I saw her crossing the street (not at a crosswalk). Beautiful, confident, zero fucks given, I was immediately in love. I debated pulling over and seeing if I could go back and find her, but it happened too fast and there was no good road to turn onto. Oh well, even though she didn’t have a collar, she probably already had a home…

I got her back about a year or two later. She’s currently about 1m to my right, and now that 15 years have passed we share a house with four kids and two cats.

No idea and I want to keep it that way.

I’ve been a serial monogamist since I started dating (way back in middle school), and my major relationships have been 1.5 years, 5.5 years, 2 years, and my current relationship which is 8+. My “ones that got away” were actually people that I wish I had messed around with in a no-strings-attached sort of way when I happened to be single. Problem is that I was never single for very long. Should’ve seen that as a personal red flag at the time, but I lacked the maturity and clarity.

Anyways, it’s not like an active desire I have. I’m really lucky - I’m married to a great guy, and I truly believe I’ve chosen an excellent life partner. Certainly the best fit for me from all the guys I’ve met. Just sometimes I wish I hadn’t taken love and sex so seriously when I was younger, and tried to have more fun.

If any young person is reading this, get it out of your system! Anybody that’s gonna judge you isn’t worth your time. Just be smart and safe about it, but you’ve got your whole adult life to be serious.

there was this one girl I knew that we both kinda bonded over being outcasts, among other things. I didn’t do anything cause I had untreated clinical anxiety and adhd, but that’s unrelated. Anyway she stopped going to my school and there was also a girl in my neighborhood who got kidnapped, and I don’t think those events involved the same girl, but rumor around the school was that it was, while I thought it was someone else. At this point, I don’t even know if there’s a way to answer that question

She was a he when I wanted him. Came out as transgender a few years after.

Cool gal, tho.

There’s more than one. I saw one of them lately, she’s doing good. We talked and hugged. That felt good, a little closure.

Mostly I don’t know since I am so bad with people and they stay the fuck away from me which, good for them.

There’s some I really grieve for. The things I couldn’t do. The things I was too bad at.

I hope all of them are better than I am.

I’m in my 50’s. I have had 3 that got away (2+ years living together). I get along with them famously. They are doing good-great, probably because we never got to life-partner stage. I’m not perfect by any means, so our non-matching characteristics, and my inability, then, to understand mutual acceptance then would have probably soured things long-term. Great memories and lived experiences. Nobody can take that from us.

My ex wife and mother of kids and I had 8 great years. 4 OK, and 4 crap years. We can barely communicate now.

They all got away. I don’t know how any of them turned out; because I disappeared and became lost.

I’ve had maybe 6 people that got away who I could have had a better relationship with than most of the ones I already have had.

Thankfully one of them is still a good friend of mine, we just mesh well in behavior and understanding eachother. Unfortunately, it was a case of her being too reluctant to have taken a chance with me when I broke up with one of my exes some 14 or so years ago. Since then, she’s been with someone new and while it’s been going well. But we’ve talked at times about how we could’ve been if we were theoretically together.

And nothing feels worse than not only knowing you could’ve had them if they just spoke up, but knowing all this time later and not having a crack of a shot to try. It just sucks.

I dunno, she never had social media at the time and apparently still doesn’t.

Last I know, she’s living a successful life doing what she wanted to do. Good for her.

I honestly don’t know much. She got away. All I know is she’s part of a swing dance club in a distant town, from which I can conclude she isn’t dead. So that’s nice.

Who knows. I let her get away despite us being pretty close friends. I think about her, I regret ditching her, but then I remember that not ditching her would mean I’d have to explain why I changed my name and I’d rather suck off a polar bear. Cis name changes are worse than genocide.