Why do We Miss People that Hurt Us

Written By Zoe Gulapa

Image Source: Vecteezy

It feels almost embarrassing to admit it.The person who made us cry.The one who left us smaller than we were before.The one who knew exactly where we were soft and pressed there anyway.

And yet, we miss them.

Missing someone who hurt you can feel like standing in the rain, knowing it is what made you sick, but still lifting your face toward the sky. It feels illogical. It feels weak. It feels like betrayal of yourself.

But it is not a weakness. It is wiring.

Love does not leave the body the moment someone leaves the room. The heart does not switch from attachment to indifference overnight. It lingers. It clings. It memorizes. The same person who wounded you may also have been the one who held you when the world felt heavy. The brain, desperate for familiarity, does not separate the bruise from the embrace. It only knows that this once felt like home.

We miss them because pain and comfort were woven together.

Think of a candle. The flame gives light and warmth, something to gather around. But it can also burn. When you blow it out, you do not just lose the heat. You lose the glow. Sometimes we crave the glow so badly that we forget how much it stung.

Memory can be cruel. It edits. It softens. It turns sharp arguments into misunderstandings. It highlights laughter and dim neglect. Our minds curate a museum of the best moments and place them under golden light, while the darker rooms stay closed. Late at night we wander through that museum and convince ourselves it was more beautiful than it truly was.

Sometimes we are not missing them.We are missing who we were when we loved them.

We miss the version of ourselves that we believed in forever. The one who waited. The one who forgave quickly. The one who hoped loudly. When they left, they did not just take their presence. They took that version of us too. Grief becomes layered. We are mourning both a person and a past self.

There is also the ache of unfinished stories. Humans crave closure the way lungs crave air. When apologies are unsaid and conversations end mid sentence, the heart keeps trying to complete what was left open. It replays scenes. It rewrites endings. It imagines different outcomes. Missing them becomes another attempt to make sense of something that never fully made sense.

And then there is hope. Stubborn and unreasonable hope. The belief that maybe they will change. Maybe they will return softer. Maybe the love we saw in glimpses will finally become steady. We do not miss the hurt. We miss the potential. The almost. The life we planned in quiet daydreams.

Here is the truth beneath it all. Attachment is not proof of compatibility. Missing someone is not proof they were good for you. It is proof that you loved deeply. That you invested pieces of yourself that cannot be reclaimed overnight.

The ocean still rises toward the moon even when the tide erodes the shore. That does not mean the shore should invite the flood back in.

To miss someone who hurt you is human. It does not mean you have forgotten the damage. It does not mean you would survive loving them again. It means your heart is slower than your logic. It means healing takes time. It means love, even when misplaced, was real.

You are allowed to miss them.You are not required to return to them.

Sometimes the bravest love story is the one where you choose yourself, even while your heart still whispers their name.