One of the hardest things about ending a relationship is that sometimes the tears arrive long after you've already made peace with the decision.

You knew it wasn't working.

The red flags were there.

The arguments were becoming more frequent.

The affection had faded.

The connection wasn't what it once was.

You knew, deep down, that walking away was the right thing to do.

And yet months later, sometimes years later, a song comes on the radio, a memory pops into your head, or you see a photograph from happier times and suddenly you're crying.

You start wondering if you've made a terrible mistake.

You remember the holidays.

The laughter.

The inside jokes.

The Sunday mornings.

The way they held your hand.

The memories come flooding back like a highlights reel of all the best moments.

But our minds are funny things.

When we're grieving, they have a habit of editing out the bad bits.

It's like watching a film where somebody has cut out all the arguments, disappointments, tears and frustrations and left only the romantic scenes.

Suddenly we're remembering the weekend away in Cornwall.

We're not remembering the argument on the drive there.

We're remembering the family barbecue.

We're not remembering the silent treatment that lasted three days afterwards.

We're remembering the cosy nights in.

We're not remembering crying ourselves to sleep wondering why we felt so alone while lying next to someone.

It's human nature.

We put on our rose-coloured glasses and our memory conveniently skips the chapters that led us to make the decision in the first place.

That's why when people tell me they miss their ex, I often ask a simple question.

What percentage of the relationship was actually good?

Not the first few months.

Not the highlights reel.

The whole relationship.

If you sat down honestly and looked at the entire picture, what percentage of your time together brought you happiness?

Because sometimes what we're grieving isn't the person at all.

Sometimes we're grieving what they represented.

The future we imagined.

The couple we thought we'd become.

The holidays we thought we'd take.

The grandchildren we thought we'd spoil together.

The Sunday lunches.

The family gatherings.

The person to sit next to at weddings.

The companion for life's adventures.

We aren't necessarily missing the reality.

We're missing the possibility.

The idea.

The dream.

And there's a huge difference between the two.

I remember talking to a woman who couldn't stop thinking about a relationship she'd ended.

Every time she remembered him, she became upset.

But when we started talking about the relationship itself, a different picture emerged.

He regularly let her down.

He cancelled plans.

He criticised her.

She often felt anxious and unsupported.

By the end of the conversation she laughed and said,

"When I actually think about it, I don't miss him at all."

What she missed was having someone.

She missed sharing experiences.

She missed being part of a couple.

She missed the future she'd imagined.

And once she realised that, the sadness started to make more sense.

But I've had exactly the same conversation with men.

One gentleman told me he couldn't stop thinking about his ex-partner. He was convinced she'd been the love of his life.

As we talked, he remembered the constant arguments.

The times he felt he couldn't do anything right.

The occasions he'd been made to feel guilty for spending time with friends.

The holidays that looked perfect in photographs but had been miserable behind the scenes.

By the end of our conversation he sat quietly for a moment and said,

"I think I've been missing the idea of the relationship more than the reality of it."

What he missed wasn't necessarily her.

He missed having someone to text.

Someone to share good news with.

Someone to travel with.

Someone to sit beside at family gatherings.

Someone to make plans with.

And that's very different from missing the actual relationship itself.

The truth is, many of us don't just grieve the person.

We grieve the life we thought we were going to have.

We grieve the future that disappeared.

We grieve the plans that never happened.

And sometimes we grieve the comfort of having someone there, even when that someone wasn't making us happy.

So the next time you find yourself feeling sad about someone from your past, pause for a moment.

Ask yourself honestly:

Am I missing the person?

Or am I missing what I hoped they would bring into my life?

The answer might surprise you.

And it might just help you move forward with a little more kindness towards yourself.

Because letting go of a relationship isn't always about letting go of a person.

Sometimes it's about letting go of a dream and making room for a new one.

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Have you ever found yourself missing a relationship, only to realise you were really missing the future you imagined?

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