Everyone has that one person. You know the one. Maybe it was a high school sweetheart who moved for college, or a coworker you shared a million "almost" moments with but never actually grabbed that drink. We call them the one that got away. It's a cliché for a reason. It's that nagging "what if" that resurfaces when you’re scrolling through Instagram at 2:00 AM or when a specific song hits the radio.
It hurts. Honestly, it’s a specific kind of grief because there is no closure. You aren't mourning a death; you’re mourning a possibility.
Psychologists actually have a name for this persistent haunting. It’s tied to the Zeigarnik Effect, a concept named after Soviet psychologist Bluma Zeigarnik. Back in the 1920s, she noticed that waiters remembered orders that were still in progress much better than the ones they had already served. Once the task was finished, the brain basically hit "delete." When a relationship ends abruptly or never quite gets off the ground, your brain keeps the file open. It’s an unfinished task. You are literally biologically wired to keep thinking about them because your mind wants to resolve the story.
The Mental Trap of Idealization
We are incredibly good at lying to ourselves. When we think about the one that got away, we aren't usually thinking about the time they were thirty minutes late to dinner or how they never cleaned the lint trap in the dryer. We’re thinking about the highlights.
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It’s called "rosy retrospection." Research published in the Journal of Experimental Social Psychology suggests that over time, our brains filter out the negative aspects of past events and polish the positive ones. This creates a version of a person that doesn’t actually exist. You aren't competing with an ex; you’re competing with a ghost who has been photoshopped by your own nostalgia.
Think about it. If they were actually perfect for you, wouldn't they still be there? Usually, these situations fall apart because of timing, distance, or—the big one—compatibility issues we choose to ignore. Dr. Helen Fisher, a biological anthropologist who has spent decades studying the brain in love, points out that "frustration attraction" is a real thing. When we are rejected or separated from someone we desire, the dopamine system in the brain actually ramps up. We want them more because we can't have them.
It’s basically the "hard to get" trope on a neurological level.
Counterfactual Thinking and the "What If" Loop
There’s a specific mental process at play here called counterfactual thinking. This is when we create "if-only" scenarios.
- If only I hadn't taken that job in Chicago.
- If only I had told them how I felt that night at the party.
- If only we had met five years later.
Social psychologist Neal Roese has studied this extensively. He suggests that while this kind of thinking can help us learn from mistakes, it often turns into "rumination" when it involves a person. Rumination is like a record player stuck in a groove. It doesn't get you anywhere; it just wears down the vinyl.
Why Social Media Made It Way Worse
In 1995, if someone was the one that got away, they were just... gone. Maybe you’d hear about them through a mutual friend once every five years. Today? They are in your pocket.
The "digital ghost" is a modern plague. You see their new partner. You see their promotion. You see their vacation to Tulum. This constant access prevents the natural fading of the Zeigarnik Effect. You can't close the file because the file keeps updating itself with new data points.
A study from the University of Western Ontario found that people who engaged in "interpersonal electronic surveillance"—which is just a fancy way of saying "creeping on an ex"—experienced much higher levels of distress and slower personal growth. You’re essentially picking a scab every time you check their profile. It feels like connection, but it’s actually just prolonging the infection.
Breaking the Spell
So, how do you actually move on from the one that got away? It’s not about forgetting they exist. That’s impossible. It’s about changing the narrative.
First, you have to humanize them. Take them off the pedestal. Write a list of every annoying thing they ever did. Did they chew loudly? Were they kind of mean to waiters? Did they have a weirdly close relationship with an ex that made you uncomfortable? Put it on paper. Seeing the flaws in black and white breaks the "rosy retrospection" loop.
Secondly, acknowledge the "Internalized Third Party." Sometimes, we hold onto an old flame because we’re unhappy in our current life. It’s an escape. If your current relationship is hitting a rough patch, or your job is soul-crushing, the "What If" person becomes a fantasy world where everything is easy. Use the longing as a diagnostic tool. What is missing in your current life that this fantasy version of them provides? Is it excitement? Is it feeling understood? Go find that in your real life.
The Difference Between Regret and Lesson
There’s a fine line here. Regret is looking backward and wishing the past was different. A lesson is looking at the past to make the future better.
If you lost the one that got away because you were afraid of commitment, don't just mourn them. Use that pain to make sure you don't do the same thing to the next person who comes along. The "one" isn't a person you find; it's a relationship you build.
Practical Steps to Close the Loop
The "Draft" Method: Write a letter to them. Say everything. The anger, the love, the "I'm sorrys." Then, for the love of everything, do NOT send it. Burn it or delete the file. The goal is externalization—getting the thoughts out of your head and into the physical world.
Digital Detox: If you are still following them, stop. Use the "Mute" button if "Unfollow" feels too aggressive. You need a period of zero data to let your brain's dopamine levels reset.
Re-evaluate the "Why": Ask yourself why they are "the one." Is it because of who they were, or because of who you were when you were with them? Often, we miss the version of ourselves that existed in that time period—younger, more hopeful, less burdened.
Invest in the Present: This sounds like "live, laugh, love" advice, but it's neurobiologically sound. New experiences create new neural pathways. Take a class, travel somewhere you’ve never been, or meet new people. You need to give your brain new "tasks" to focus on so it stops obsessing over the unfinished one from five years ago.
The one that got away is usually a symptom of a story we haven't finished telling ourselves. But you're the author. You can choose to end the chapter whenever you want. Real love isn't a "what if" or a "maybe." It’s the person who stays, the one who shows up, and the one who chooses you back in the messy, unpolished reality of the present day.