I dated a guy for two years who I met in a job interview of all places! We instantly hit it off, talked on the phone the entire month before I moved and quickly started a relationship when I arrived to the city. While I was supposed to be staying with family, I stayed with him pretty much every night for 4 months. Then, as I had always planned, I got my own place. For two months. Then, his lease ended and I asked him to move in with me (something I never said I'd do so soon). But, this relationship was different. We were so into each other. Our outlook on life was so similar. We wanted the same things and agreed one day we could see ourselves getting married. About a year in, I remember telling people he was the one. Things were really good (except we hardly had any friends of our own, our sex life was a bit dull, and I was always consumed in anxiety about finishing projects for work, which is where a lot of my attention was focused) until I lost my job... then a few months later he lost his! I was torn on what to do next so I became a nanny and he started job searching all over the country. I said I'd follow him wherever he got a job, and so when he got one in another state and had to start a month before our lease ended, I found myself not really missing him. I went to visit him and had no desire to be intimate with him. Obviously, this scared me but I went through with our plan to move to a city where fortunately, he is from and is surrounded by his friends and family. I began a job working from home where I sat day in and day out, not feeling confident about my ability to do the job based on having lost my previous one. 90 days later, they let me go. On and off since right before the move, I began denying my boyfriend in bed. The sex hadn't improved much overtime anyway and I just wasn't ever into it. Months passed and I started analyzing everything about us... My parents kept asking when we'd get engaged and I kept saying "not for a while" and "I'm not ready".
I kept getting freaked out about the idea of him proposing and me being forced to say yes when I might want to say no. I started to find myself not very attracted to him, I didn't want him touching me like he used to; one day when we were taking a walk around the neighborhood pointing at styles of houses we liked, it hit me that I didn't want to buy a house with this person (even though I used to be so into the idea). It really got bad when I woke up a few mornings in a row and my first thought was "I don't love this person". I kind of took that as not being in love more so than simply loving him. And it just went downhill from there. My anxiety about all this got so bad that one day I just had to come clean that I wasn't sure I was in love with him. He was devastated. I felt so much better to get it off my chest. He went to stay with friends for 2 months. I was incredibly sad and depressed over how our lives suddenly were turned upside down but I also loved the freedom of being alone and making time for some girlfriends I met a few weeks prior. I stared therapy and depression and anxiety medicine (Wellbutrin XL). I realized how I have no hobbies, passions, or my own life really. I never live in the present...all things I have to work on (first and foremost for myself to regain happiness). It's been 3 months since I first came clean and while we've kept in touch, slept together quite a few times (and oddly it's been fabulous! I've come out of my shell a bit in the bedroom) and I love communicating with him, but I don't miss him like I think I should or feel like I can't live without him. Nevertheless, I am feeling better. I think the meds are working, I've started yoga and meditation and I feel like I'm getting some clarity. But I've been anxious this whole time trying to figure out where we went wrong, if I really fell out of love...or if I was ever in love to begin with.

But after yoga one day I had this epiphany that we had some problems and to stop beating myself up about everything. I 100% could say, I wasn't in love with him. I had pulled away and become detached. Of course I wasn't in love. How could I love someone when I don't love myself? So as soon as I became honest with myself, I began to feel better.

On New Years, pretty soberly I might add, I went to his new place to see him and we slept together, like a million times, decided to lay in bed all day New Year's Day (something we'd always talked about doing), had the best time talking and being together and had more great sex. Feelings of love for him and empathy for what'd I'd done to him started to emerge. We had a talk and I updated him on how I was feeling versus how I had felt previously (the difference wasn't drastic but significant, I think). We're considering starting to spend some time together to see if we can rekindle anything but it's not so easy to forget those feelings of doubt and despair I've been having for so long. I still have this nagging feeling he isn't the one and I fear trying to work things out in fear it just isn't right (with all the anxiety and depression I've experienced, it's hard to know when to listen to your head or your heart).

What's your opinion of this entire situation? I have my own thoughts and excuses for why I think this happened but I won't bias anyone who has read this far (I thank you). What happened with us? With me? Was I never in love? Did I just get super depressed? Should we just go our separate ways? Should we give it another go?