Dear Roe,<\/b><\/p>\n
I\u2019m 29 and have been seeing someone for nearly a year. He\u2019s a creative who\u2019s been struggling to make rent and keep his <\/b>mental health<\/b><\/a> steady. When we met, I was drawn to how gentle he was, how romantic, how present he could be. I love how passionate he is about his work, and me. But he\u2019s also very flaky and inconsistent. He disappears for days when he\u2019s \u201cnot in a good headspace\u201d, then texts long, apologetic paragraphs about how much he misses me and how he wants to be better. I know that he always means it. <\/b><\/p>\n But meaning it doesn\u2019t change that I\u2019m usually the one checking in, making plans, being bailed on, giving him emotional support. A few weeks ago, I had a big event on that was a real achievement for me and he said he\u2019d come, but an hour before, he texted that he was \u201ctoo tired to be around people\u201d. He said he felt ashamed for letting me down, that he\u2019d make it up to me. (I don\u2019t know how he could, but he hasn\u2019t made any big attempt or gestures since.) The next day we met up and he ended up crying about how he wishes he could \u201cget it together\u201d. I know he did feel guilty and overwhelmed, but I also ended up comforting him even though he had let me down and abandoned me for something that was very important to me. <\/b><\/p>\n I know he loves me and wants to show up for me. He says all the right things, and I believe him. But it feels like there\u2019s always something: exhaustion, anxiety, work, guilt. I don\u2019t want to be someone who breaks up with a loving person because they struggle with finances and anxiety, but I don\u2019t know how long I can do this. <\/b><\/p>\n There are two things I need you to remember, one about him and one about you.<\/p>\n When it comes to this man, I need you to remember that desire is not willingness or capacity.<\/p>\n There\u2019s a phrase that floats around online: \u201cIf he wanted to, he would.\u201d Sometimes it\u2019s true \u2013 some people talk a big game but have no intention of following through. But other times it\u2019s too simple. Some people genuinely want to love well, to be present and supportive, but they can\u2019t. Not because they don\u2019t care, but because they don\u2019t have the capacity \u2013 whether that\u2019s due to mental health, burnout, trauma, financial strain or sheer exhaustion. The desire is there; the ability isn\u2019t.<\/p>\n This distinction matters when it comes to how you understand this person\u2019s character. Someone who doesn\u2019t actually want to commit but keeps making hollow promises is manipulative and wasting your time. Someone who genuinely wants to be with you but doesn\u2019t have the capacity has good intentions but is stuck. Keeping that difference clear in your mind and heart matters, because it tells you where to spend your compassion.<\/p>\n But even though the difference in intentions is real, the outcome is often the same: you feel alone. You hear promises that go unfulfilled, plans that keep being postponed, commitments that quietly crumble under the weight of everything else in their life. You find yourself making excuses on their behalf, translating every \u201cI\u2019m sorry\u201d into hope, holding faith that next time will be different – because you know they want that to be true. But good intentions, no matter how sincere, don\u2019t keep you company when they\u2019ve cancelled again. They don\u2019t stand beside you at the event you worked so hard for. They don\u2019t build the life you keep trying to imagine together.<\/p>\n