When closeness feels intense – and then quietly slips away

Sometimes, a new connection arrives unexpectedly – a friendship or relationship that feels suddenly deep and full of promise. You find yourself sharing parts of yourself sooner than usual, feeling seen and important in someone else’s world. There’s warmth, attentiveness, maybe even a sense of consistency and care that feels grounding. It might feel like you’ve found a new best friend. Someone who wants to know you.

Then, something shifts. The person who once turned to you so often – the one you invested deeply in, supported, and gently showed up for – unexpectedly pulls away. Their focus moves elsewhere. The closeness you thought was growing seems to unravel, leaving behind a quiet confusion: What happened? Was I not enough? Was any of it real?

These moments can stir up a tangle of feelings. Hurt. Doubt. A longing to make sense of what felt so meaningful and then disappeared. It can feel personal, as if the loss reflects something lacking in us. But sometimes the truth lies in something else – a pattern that plays out not because of who we are, but because of what someone else was seeking.

One such pattern is called limerence.

Limerence: more than affection, less than connection

Limerence is a term introduced by psychologist Dorothy Tennov. It describes a state of intense emotional focus on another person – often marked by idealising them, longing for their attention, and finding deep meaning in moments that may be small or uncertain. It can feel like being pulled into someone else’s orbit, caught up in their need for closeness or validation.

This isn’t always about romance. Limerence can show up in friendships and other relationships too. And it can be hard to spot when you’re the one receiving that attention. You might simply feel that someone really sees you – that your calm presence, your openness, your listening ear is appreciated in a way that feels different.

But often, limerence isn’t about who you truly are. It’s about what the other person needs in that moment. A steady place to land. A source of emotional reassurance. Someone safe.

When intensity fades: the quiet aftermath

Then, just as suddenly, it fades. The person becomes distant. Their messages slow or stop. They start turning elsewhere for the connection they once held so tightly with you.

You’re left wondering what changed. Trying to make sense of how something that felt so strong could vanish so quietly. It might seem like you were holding up the whole relationship without even realising it. That you were their anchor for a while – but not someone they were really seeing clearly.

This can be especially tender for quiet-hearted people. When we connect, we tend to do so deeply. We notice the unspoken. We give others space to be themselves. And when someone seems to value that – then moves on without explanation – it can leave a very particular kind of ache.

You might be left with questions about your own worth, your instincts, or whether you can trust yourself to connect again.

But you did matter. You do matter.

And what happened is not a reflection of your value or your capacity to connect.

Limerence isn’t a shared story

Limerence often springs from inner needs that haven’t yet been recognised or met. When someone is caught in that space, they might see you less as a whole person and more as a source of comfort or hope. They may believe the closeness is mutual – and for a while, you might believe it too.

But as their need shifts or their attention turns elsewhere, it becomes clearer that the connection wasn’t being built on equal ground. You may have shown up with your whole self, while they were holding onto an idea of you that served a role in their inner story.

When the relationship fades, it’s not that you weren’t enough. It’s that it wasn’t truly a mutual meeting of two people – just a season where your presence helped soothe something for them.

Often, when someone is in a limerent state, they’re relating to a version of you that fits into their internal longing – not necessarily who you are in your fullness. As time goes on, they may start to feel disappointed when you show up with your own needs, boundaries, or complexity. Sometimes, someone else who seems more available or validating may appear and draw their focus. Or perhaps, you gently stepped back – recognising the emotional weight you were carrying, or needing to protect other relationships or your own energy. In any of these moments, the image they were holding may no longer match the reality. And rather than adjusting and reconnecting on equal ground, they quietly pull away.

Making space for real, mutual connection

It’s natural to want to feel like we matter to someone. To be met with curiosity, consistency, and care. And you deserve that – not just in fleeting moments of intensity, but in ongoing, grounded relationships where both people can be themselves.

If you’ve found yourself in a connection that felt one-sided or faded suddenly, remember:

• You gave something real – and that still matters

• Your presence was kind and steady

• You are capable of beautiful connection

• You don’t need to carry the emotional weight of another person

You’re allowed to want balanced relationships, and you’re allowed to let go of roles that were never yours. Quiet connection doesn’t have to be built in intensity. It can be slow, mutual, and meaningful – and that kind of connection is worth waiting for.