The Psychology of "The One Who Got Away”

Does anyone haunt us more than the one who got away?

You know who I mean: that one ex who haunts your thoughts with “what if?”

They’re the ex who pops up in your head when you hear a nostalgic song, or when you run across their name, or when you’re a few drinks in, feeling sorry for yourself.

Let’s be real: Most of us have a soft spot for the life we didn’t live. That sharp little ache of almost.

We crave the version of our life where we made the bolder choice. We are, collectively and individually, haunted by the ones—and the lives—that got away.

From Gatsby to Adele's “Someone Like You,” and Olivia Rodrigo’s “Get Him Back!” we’ve always been a little obsessed with the people we didn’t end up with.

There’s just something romantic about a good what if, especially when it involves someone we were once convinced was our person. Every song, every late-night comfort-food-fueled heart-to-heart with a friend eventually circles back to this: Were we meant to be, and I messed it up? Or were things just badly timed, or just not what I thought they would be?

It turns out, there’s a psychological explanation for why “the one who got away” feels so significant and why they continue to haunt us.

Why are we so stuck on the one?

Research shows that people who are sexually or emotionally unfulfilled in their current relationship and who are low in attachment avoidance (i.e., comfortable with emotional closeness) are more likely to feel nostalgic about an ex. Not because the ex was some magical soulmate, but because idealizing the past is easier than being vulnerable in the present. It’s safer to miss someone who’s gone than to get messy with someone right in front of you.

So, when your present doesn’t feel good and your brain’s wired for closeness, it starts wandering to what could’ve been.

Research also shows we’re more likely to feel regret when we don’t know how the other option would’ve turned out. If the path you didn’t take stays hidden—if there’s no closure, no clear outcome—your brain assumes it would’ve been perfect.

So, part of the sting comes from the fact that you never really got to find out what could’ve happened. And that “maybe” is the thing you can’t seem to put down.

See, your brain hates uncertainty so much that it fills in the blanks with fantasy.

Add to this the Zeigarnik Effect, our tendency to remember unfinished experiences more vividly than completed ones. If a relationship ended suddenly or never had proper closure, our brains latch onto it, replaying moments.

The more unresolved the connection, the harder it is to let go.

It’s like your brain becomes an over-caffeinated scriptwriter, crafting alternate endings where they realize they messed up, show up at your door in the rain, and declare their undying love and commitment to working out what didn’t work before. (Spoiler: That’s probably not happening.)

And if all that isn’t enough, people tend to idealize past relationships, forgetting the flaws and conflicts while amplifying the highlights. Thanks to the fading affect bias, the sting of negative memories fades faster than the warmth of positive ones.

In other words, our memory isn’t a perfect recording. It’s actually a story our brains rewrite every time we recall it.

You might remember that perfect summer night, the way they made you laugh, or how effortlessly you connected. But what you’re actually recalling is an emotion, not an accurate reflection of the relationship itself.

Your brain is tricking you into believing it was better than it actually was, making the “one who got away” seem more perfect than they were.

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The hard fact is: You’re not actually in love with them. You’re in love with the highlight reel your brain keeps replaying, and that reel edits out the emotional unavailability.

Research on romantic love shows that intense emotional bonds are tied to neurochemical processes in the brain, particularly dopamine and oxytocin, which can make past relationships feel more significant than they actually were.

Harmful or helpful?

One study found that people who hold onto nostalgic reminders of an ex—like photos, texts, or social media memories—struggle more with post‑breakup adjustment (like, moving on).

Researchers have found that when we don’t fully deal with the emotional fallout from a breakup, it doesn’t just mess with our healing but also makes it harder to connect with someone new. Unresolved baggage doesn’t stay in the past; it comes with you.

How to Let Go of “The One Who Got Away”

If you’re tired of being haunted by someone from your past, try these psychology-backed strategies:

1. Challenge the Fantasy: Remind yourself that you’re idealizing them. Write down the real flaws and reasons why it didn’t work out.
2. Close the Loop: Even if you can’t get actual closure, create it for yourself. Write a letter (that you don’t send) or have an imaginary conversation where you say what you need to say.
3. Reframe the Experience: Instead of seeing it as a tragic loss, view it as a lesson or a stepping stone to something better.
4. Be Present: Focus on what’s in front of you, not what’s behind you. Nostalgia thrives when we’re dissatisfied with the present, so work on creating meaningful moments now.

Romanticizing the past can be intoxicating, but the reality is: If they were really and truly “the one,” they wouldn’t have gotten away. Sometimes, people come into our lives to teach us something. Letting go of that fantasy creates space for real, lasting connections.

So, the next time you catch yourself walking down memory lane, remind yourself that they’re not haunting you. You’re keeping them alive in your head like a Netflix reboot no one asked for. It’s time to cancel the show and move on.

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