In TMIK, people tell us their real stories. This time, one of our readers explains how it feels to fall for someone who isn’t your partner – as told to relationships editor Lucy Sarret

The first time I laid eyes on him, I knew I fancied him. I remember thinking: “Fuck, he’s very, very fit.”

It wasn't a groundbreaking moment – I often had fleeting thoughts like that. But resisting this newfound attraction became a challenge. He worked with me, and despite the fact I was already  in a relationship, his sweetness, charisma, and genuine interest created a connection I couldn't shake.

I was already in a long-term relationship with another guy. And while what we had was very special, I had a nagging feeling that we were very different and that he might not be able to give me the emotional and intellectual connection I craved on top of the physical. In the end, we loved each other very much, but we were very different people trying to pretend that we were perfectly content together when in fact, we probably both deserved better. 

This also happened at a time of upheaval for me. Post-university struggles and a depressingly tumultuous job search fueled a yearning for a connection outside of my primary relationship. As bad as it sounds, I think some of it came from a sense of boredom, and this person was finally bringing some excitement in my life. 

During that time, I was a mess. Consumed by thoughts of him, I couldn't eat, sleep, or focus. Guilt weighed me down, and even though my boyfriend was a lovely person, I knew he'd be crushed if he knew.

In an attempt to keep my feelings in check, I tried avoiding him for a week. I saw my boyfriend during that time, hoping to get over it, but when I finally saw him again at work I was a mess. Nervousness overwhelmed me, and as he smiled at me, I thought: “I'm screwed. There's no escaping this.”

The emotions were a rollercoaster. Simultaneously turned on and on the verge of tears, I kept questioning if this intense burning feeling was what everyone sought. The beauty of the feeling was shrouded in guilt, making me feel out of control.

It wasn't just about lust; it was a deeper connection that I’d never had in my relationship. His attentive listening, the recall of minute details, and the constant desire to be near him made it very clear that this was more than a silly fixation, and was developing into a full-blown affair.

I’m very close with my brother and I was texting him about it constantly. He and everyone around me were very supportive, but I think people struggled to know what to say or do. It probably felt like validating my feelings was encouraging the emotional affair, and rightly so; no one wanted to feel responsible for that, especially when I was so volatile. 

I never confronted my boyfriend about it; the guilt was too immense. The emotional affair consumed me, disrupting my daily life. Eventually, I made the painful decision to end the relationship, sparing him the agony of knowing the truth. Breaking up with him was hard, but necessary. 

This decision definitely did reshape my understanding of relationships and emotional boundaries. It might sound cliché, but it’s true; communication and honesty are kind of crucial. 

Looking back, I don’t think I would say I learned new things about myself, but reaffirmed existing beliefs. I knew I was emotional and sensitive, needing someone who could nurture those parts of me. I never want to reach a point where I'm falling for someone else while in a relationship.

I definitely feel bad that it took meeting someone else for me to break up with him because these are things I knew all along, but because the rest of my life felt like it was in disarray, I didn’t feel strong enough to break up with him without a definitive reason. 

Eventually, I ended my relationship and entered a new one with the person from the emotional affair. The transition was rapid, almost seamless, with the period between the two boyfriends being ashamedly small. But I was fueled by a need to confirm the emotional affair wasn't one-sided; I simply had to know that the emotional affair I was having wasn’t just a whim, a silly crush that I’d forget about in a matter of days.

Although  I can say I’m happy today, I wish I'd had the strength and bravery to end things with my boyfriend before I was ever able to fall for someone else. I’ve taken the experience, though fucking horrific, in stride, and hope that it teaches me to be braver and more communicative. 

If you go looking for that feeling in others, it's almost always a sign that something isn’t right. While it's normal to have crushes on other people, if you feel it developing emotionally, it's a sure sign to break up. Better that, than to stay feeling bored and unfulfilled.