When a relationship ends, especially a marriage, it’s natural to ask: Did he ever love me?  

It’s a question that lingered in my mind after Mark and I separated. I wanted to believe that he did, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that his version of love was fundamentally different from mine. Over time, as I processed the loss and learned more about attachment styles, I realized that love isn’t a universal experience—it looks different depending on a person’s emotional capacity, fears, and personal history.  

Why Did Mark Marry Me?

At the start, Mark was drawn to me. I was warm, loving, and deeply invested in him. I made life easy—planning dates, initiating conversations, and making him feel wanted. For a man with an avoidant attachment style, this was the perfect setup.

Avoidant individuals crave companionship but fear deep emotional closeness. They enter relationships when it makes logical sense—when the partner provides stability, care, and an emotional buffer without requiring too much in return. Mark didn’t fall for me because of overwhelming passion—he married me because I provided him with a sense of security and structure.  

For a time, that dynamic worked. But as our relationship deepened, my emotional needs surfaced. I wanted deeper conversations, more vulnerability, and meaningful connection. That’s when Mark began to retreat.  

What Does Love Look Like for Mark?  

For me, love means emotional intimacy, adventure, depth, and shared vulnerability.  

For Mark, love means safety, routine, companionship, and the absence of conflict.  

He didn’t express love through deep conversations or grand romantic gestures—he expressed it through consistency, stability, and presence. To him, love meant coexisting peacefully. But love, as I needed it, required more: openness, emotional honesty, and a willingness to grow together.  

This is where we were fundamentally mismatched. Mark’s love wasn’t absent—it was just limited by his emotional walls.

Did Mark Love Me? 

Yes. In his way, Mark loved me to the extent that he was capable of loving anyone. But his love was conditional—it needed to remain comfortable, easy, and undemanding. The moment our relationship required more emotional depth, more accountability, more vulnerability—he pulled away. 

For avoidant individuals, love is a balancing act between wanting connection and fearing it at the same time. Mark’s version of love could never be the love I needed, because it wasn’t based on mutual emotional growth—it was based on self-preservation.  

Why Did Mark Let Me Go? 

Mark let me go, not because he stopped caring, but because I was asking for something he could not give. He saw my frustration, my longing for deeper intimacy, and my unwillingness to settle for surface-level companionship. He knew that if we stayed together, he would eventually have to confront himself—his emotional limitations, his fears, his addiction to avoidance. And that was a battle he wasn’t willing to fight.  

Avoidant men do not fight for relationships; they retreat from them. Instead of facing discomfort, they choose the path of least resistance. And for Mark, that meant leaving—not because he didn’t love me, but because loving me the way I needed to be loved required more than he was willing or able to give.  

What I’ve Learned  

For a long time, I internalized the failure of our marriage as a reflection of my own shortcomings. I wondered if I had been too much, if I had asked for too much, if I had driven him away.  

Now, I see it clearly: Mark was never capable of giving me the kind of love I needed. He wanted stability, not depth. Companionship, not emotional intimacy. I could have made myself smaller, accepted a life of quiet dissatisfaction, and settled for what he was able to offer.  

But that’s not the life I want.  

So yes—Mark loved me. But his love was not enough for me, and it never would have been. And that’s why letting go was the only choice.