
I’ve developed a crush on a senior colleague at work who already has a girlfriend. I feel guilty towards my own boyfriend because I secretly have feelings for this colleague — I’m interested, preoccupied, curious to know more about him, I like him, admire him, and am very taken with the graphic designer at my workplace.
My feelings for my boyfriend aren’t 100% like they used to be anymore. I’m tired of his face, tired of his personality — the nagging, the nitpicking, and his constant attempts to change me into whatever he wants, without really understanding how exhausting my work actually is.
Over time, when I stopped giving him attention, he got sulky, resentful, and emotionally numb towards me. And because we live and work in different provinces, and our working hours are different, that’s made us even more distant — to the point where it’s almost like we’re just friends rather than lovers.
These days we barely talk about anything. The only message we exchange is “Good night.” If I don’t call him, he doesn’t think to call me at all. I’ve stopped expecting anything now.
At the very least, if my boyfriend would listen to me, that would still mean something, because deep down I still believe that he’s the one who knows me best and could recharge my energy. But what actually happens is: whenever we talk on the phone, he only talks about himself. It’s like his world revolves around him alone, without any concern for how I’m doing, whether I’m okay or falling apart.
This has built up to the point where I’ve grown more and more emotionally cold towards him. It’s like once I took off the “love filter,” my eyes opened. I started seeing things more as they are, and I’m sure I don’t want to choose him as my life partner. (Just imagining our future if we got married already feels exhausting.)
At first, I didn’t think anything of the graphic designer.
But after we started chatting casually and I complained to him about work, I began to feel better and better with him over time. That gradually extended to following each other on social media. And that made me want to get to know him more and more.
I like checking his profiles often, because it feels like I’m getting to know him through his posts — seeing what he likes, what he’s currently into, or how he thinks about different things. He comes across as mysterious and very cool.
But I don’t intend to change our status from co-workers into anything more, because I’m still lucid enough to know that I already have a boyfriend. On top of that, he probably has someone he likes or is talking to already. And he probably is just naturally friendly.
All I can do is keep pressing down these feelings with patience, over and over. But my feelings towards my boyfriend are no longer 100% like they used to be.
How should I manage myself from here?
Let me be direct: the graphic designer is not really the problem here. He's the window that opened and let fresh air in, and you've been sitting in a stuffy room long enough that you're convinced the window is the most important thing in your life. It isn't. What's important is figuring out why the room got stuffy, and what you're actually going to do about it. 🎯
We humans are remarkably good at collecting reasons to justify ourselves so we don't look like the villain in our own story. "I'm drawn to the graphic designer because my boyfriend never listens." "I think about him constantly, can't be helped, my boyfriend doesn't give me attention." All of this may be entirely true — and also a very convenient narrative that keeps you from having to look directly at what's actually happening. 🎭
So let's look directly at it. 🔍
Your situation has two distinct issues running simultaneously, and the reason it feels so tangled is that you're experiencing them as one emotion rather than two separate problems that require different solutions. 📋
Problem one: your existing relationship is running out of fuel. Different provinces. Different hours. Conversations reduced to "good night." He talks about himself, you listen, nobody asks how you're doing. You've stopped expecting things. You've taken off the love filter. You already know you don't want to marry him. That's not a crush problem — that's a relationship that has been quietly ending for a while, and the honest question is why neither of you has said so yet. 📉
Problem two: the graphic designer has become an escape hatch your brain uses to breathe. He listens. He's in the same work context. He's mysterious from a safe distance. He represents everything the relationship stopped providing — being seen, being heard, not being someone's renovation project. So your brain, which has been deprived, latches on. 🪟
If you don't separate these two problems clearly, you'll make decisions driven by emotional hunger rather than actual truth. Hunger for attention. Hunger for someone who listens. Hunger for the feeling that you're still interesting to someone. That hunger is real — but it's a terrible navigator. It tells you "this must be the answer" when the person in question might just be anesthetic. 🧠
A relationship reduced to "good night" texts isn't love. It's a nightly roll call. You're both showing up to prove the relationship still technically exists, without either of you having the conversation about whether it actually does. 📊
You said you've taken off the love filter and now see things more clearly. You're sure you don't want him as a life partner. Just imagining the future with him already feels exhausting. Those are not the words of someone who needs help reigniting a relationship. Those are the words of someone who already knows the answer and is looking for permission to act on it. 🔍
Here's the question worth asking honestly: if the graphic designer didn't exist — if you'd never had a single conversation with him — would you still want to stay with your boyfriend? If the answer is no, then the graphic designer is not the reason for the problem. He's just the thing your brain reached for when the relationship ran dry. The problem was already there. 📌
The pattern you described — you stopped giving attention, he got sulky, you became more cold, he became more numb — is a demand-withdraw cycle, one of the most documented relationship deterioration patterns in couples psychology. It doesn't get better by waiting. Both people contribute to it and neither usually sees their own part clearly. But the more important point is: you've already concluded it's not repairable for you. The honest move is to say so. 💬
What's keeping you from saying so? Two things, usually. The first is guilt — he hasn't done anything catastrophically wrong, he's just become incompatible with what you need. The second is the graphic designer — as long as there's someone exciting to think about, you don't have to stare directly at the emptiness of the current relationship. Both of those are worth examining. 🪞
I want to be precise about this because it matters for how seriously you take the feeling. 📋
You're not in love with the graphic designer as a complete human being. You've had casual conversations and work chats, you follow each other on social media, and you've been studying him through his posts. What you've built is a mental construction — a version of him assembled from curated content, limited interactions, and a significant amount of projection by a brain that is emotionally depleted from its current relationship. 🧠
Social media is a highlights reel. Nobody posts their worst moments — the sulking, the selfishness, the petty jealousies, the days they're boring and difficult. You're consuming his best presentation and your brain is filling in the rest with whatever you most want to find there. That's not love. That's idealization — a well-documented psychological response to emotional deprivation in a primary relationship. You're not wrong for feeling it. But mistaking it for "this is the answer" is where people get into trouble. 📊
The graphic designer represents what you're missing — someone who listens, who's in your daily environment, who doesn't nag or try to reshape you into something else. Those are real needs. But the person representing them is almost incidental. If he didn't exist, someone else would have filled that role eventually, because the need itself was there before he showed up. 🔄
He also has a girlfriend. He probably doesn't know you're this invested. He's probably just being friendly. So the scenario your brain has been writing is a significant distance from the actual situation — which is a coworker who seems nice and interesting and is taken. 📌
The guilt you feel toward your boyfriend is actually useful information — not as a reason to punish yourself, but as a signal about what you already know and haven't acted on yet. 📋
You feel guilty because your heart isn't fully with him anymore. You feel guilty because you're emotionally somewhere else while technically still in the relationship. That's a legitimate thing to feel guilty about — not because having feelings is a crime, but because staying in the relationship without being honest about where you are isn't fair to either of you. He doesn't know you've already decided he's not your life partner. He's going about his days sending good night texts thinking the relationship still exists in the form it used to. 😶
In Buddhist terms, this is a micchā-sankappa problem — wrong intention dressed as patience. You're staying in the relationship while planning a mental exit, telling yourself it's because you haven't done anything technically wrong yet. But staying half-heartedly in something while emotionally exiting isn't virtue. It's the most comfortable form of avoidance. 🪷
Guilt should be a compass, not a punishment. It's pointing at the action you need to take. 🎯
There's a very common immature path through this situation: use the graphic designer as fuel, get more excited by him, get more irritated by your boyfriend by contrast, manufacture a fight, break up badly, immediately pursue the new guy, discover he's not what you constructed in your head, get hurt at work, lose the stability of the job you like. I'm skipping that one. Here are the actual paths. 📋
Path A: Deal with the relationship honestly first. Have one real conversation with your boyfriend — not a "good night" text, not a fight, an actual conversation about where you both are. Something like: "I feel like we've become very distant and I'm not sure we're actually still in this. I want us to talk about whether we want to keep going, and if yes, what would need to change." Then watch his behavior, not just his words. A smooth talker promises anything. Someone who actually cares changes something. If he continues as before — you have your answer and you can end things cleanly. If he genuinely changes — you'll find out whether there's still something worth building. Either way, you're out of the grey zone. 💬
Path B: Set firm limits with the graphic designer — regardless of what happens with your boyfriend. Not because having a crush makes you a terrible person, but because you work together and your career stability matters. Specifically: 🎯
One honest self-check worth doing: if you resolve the relationship situation and give yourself some time to breathe, does the interest in the graphic designer stay at the same intensity? Or does it quiet down once the emotional hunger is addressed? The answer to that question tells you a lot about whether you're drawn to him specifically, or drawn to what he represents. 🔍
And if you end the relationship and eventually want to know him better — there's a clear and uncomplicated path to doing that. Just not while you're still technically with someone else, and not while your judgment is running on emotional fumes. 🎯
The one thing that's actually not available: continuing to drift — staying with your boyfriend with half a heart, thinking about the graphic designer with the other half, not having any real conversations, and calling this "managing your feelings." That's not managing. That's procrastinating on two decisions simultaneously. 📌
The specific experience you're describing — the constant preoccupation, the profile-checking, the feeling of getting to know someone through their social media without actually knowing them, the obsessive quality of it — has a clinical name: limerence. It was first described by psychologist Dorothy Tennov in the 1970s and it's distinct from both love and ordinary attraction. 🧠
Limerence is characterized by intrusive thinking about the person, intense longing for reciprocation, an exaggerated sense of their positive qualities, and what Tennov called "crystallization" — the tendency to build an idealized mental image around limited real information. The checking of his profiles, the feeling of learning who he is through his posts, the sense that he's mysterious and cool — that's crystallization in action. You're filling in gaps with what you most want to find there. 🔍
What's important about limerence is that it's strongly correlated with emotional deprivation in primary relationships. Research consistently shows that limerence is far more likely to develop — and far more intense — when someone's existing relationship is leaving significant emotional needs unmet. Your brain isn't randomly choosing this person. It's running a search for "someone who provides what I'm not getting" and finding matches. That process feels like falling in love. It isn't the same thing. 📊
Limerence also has a notable feature: it tends to peak before reality sets in. The intensity of the feeling is inversely related to how well you actually know the person. The less you know, the more your brain invents. Which is why the graphic designer feels so compelling right now — there are still enough gaps in your knowledge of him for your imagination to fill with exactly what you need. The moment the gaps close, the limerence often does too. This is why people who act on these feelings frequently discover that the actual relationship with the "exciting new person" is significantly less electric than the fantasy was. 💡
There's also a related concept worth knowing: parasocial attachment — the one-sided sense of connection that develops from observing someone through their public content without real reciprocal interaction. Celebrities experience this from fans. You're experiencing it with your coworker. You feel like you know him through his posts. He has no equivalent sense of knowing you. The intimacy is asymmetric, and that asymmetry is doing a lot of emotional work in your head that he doesn't know about and hasn't agreed to. 🎭
None of this makes what you're feeling less real. It makes it important to understand accurately before you let it drive decisions. 📌
You asked how to manage yourself. Part of managing yourself is seeing the patterns you're in clearly — not to judge them, but because you can't exit a pattern you can't see. 🔍
You allowed silence in the relationship to become the new normal. Good night texts only. No real conversations. You "stopped expecting." Stopping expectations can look like emotional maturity from the outside, but inside a relationship it usually means one person has quietly given up and is waiting for the other person to notice or the situation to resolve itself. It doesn't resolve itself. It just gradually becomes more entrenched. The silence you're now experiencing didn't appear suddenly — it was built incrementally, one not-quite-enough conversation at a time, and at some point you stopped pushing back against it. 📉
You're using the crush as insulation from the harder feeling. As long as there's someone exciting to think about, you don't have to sit with the grief of a relationship that didn't become what you hoped it would. The preoccupation with the graphic designer is genuinely uncomfortable in one way — the guilt — but it's also a distraction from the deeper discomfort of accepting that your relationship is over and choosing what to do about it. The crush is more interesting to think about than the actual problem. That's not a character flaw. It's how brains work under stress. 🧠
You haven't communicated the full reality to your boyfriend. He knows things aren't great. He doesn't know you've already concluded he's not your life partner. He doesn't know you've been emotionally somewhere else. He's operating with significantly less information than you have about the state of the relationship. That gap isn't fair to him — not because you're required to narrate every feeling in real time, but because he's making decisions about his own life based on an understanding of the relationship that's no longer accurate. The upekkha — equanimity — that actually serves both of you here is not suffering in silence. It's saying the true thing. 🪷
You're drawn to "mysterious and cool" partly because your current relationship has no mystery left. Long-term relationships lose novelty — that's documented in relationship research as hedonic adaptation, the brain's tendency to normalize whatever is consistent. The graphic designer is new, which means he still has novelty. Your boyfriend is familiar, which means the brain has already stopped registering him as exciting. This isn't evidence that the graphic designer is the right person for you. It's evidence that novelty is doing a lot of the emotional lifting in how you're comparing them. A more accurate comparison would be: what do you actually know about who he is when things are difficult, when he's tired, when he's not performing his best self? The answer is: not much yet. 📊
You mentioned different provinces and different working hours almost as a footnote. It's not a footnote. Long-distance relationships require significantly more intentional maintenance than geographically close ones, and they have specific failure patterns that are worth understanding. 📋
Physical separation removes the low-effort connection that sustains relationships day-to-day. Couples who live together accumulate connection through proximity — small moments, shared meals, the incidental conversation that happens because you're in the same space. Long-distance couples have none of that. Every interaction has to be intentional, which means the relationship is only as good as both people's deliberate investment in it. When that investment drops on either side, the relationship doesn't coast — it deteriorates. What you're describing — conversations under five minutes, good night texts only, calling and finding he talks only about himself — is a long-distance relationship where the intentional investment has stopped. 🔄
Meanwhile, the graphic designer is physically present in your daily life. He's in the same environment, at the same time, sharing the same work context. Your nervous system gets to register him in real space — his actual voice, his actual energy, how he moves through a room. Your boyfriend exists primarily as a text notification on your phone. From your brain's perspective, the comparison isn't fair. One person is real and present. The other is an abstract concept that occasionally says good night. 📱
This doesn't mean long-distance relationships can't work. It means they require active maintenance that yours hasn't been getting — and the fact that proximity is doing some of the emotional work in your attraction to the graphic designer is important context for evaluating how much of that attraction would survive if he were also reduced to a text message. 🔍
The anxious attachment pattern that long-distance often activates is also worth recognizing: when connection feels unstable or insufficient, the attachment system starts scanning harder for alternative sources of safety. Your brain finding the graphic designer is partly your attachment system doing its job — looking for connection when the primary source feels unreliable. Understanding that doesn't mean ignoring the feeling. It means not confusing the search for a specific answer. 🧠
The final DramoCiety truth: having a crush isn't a crime. Staying in a relationship you've already emotionally left while using the crush as a reason not to deal with it — that's the part that's costing you. Clean up one thing at a time, in the right order. Deal with the relationship first. The graphic designer will still be there — or he won't, and that will also tell you something. 🔥
All content on DramoCiety is for reflective and educational purposes only. If you're navigating significant relationship distress, please consider speaking with a licensed mental health professional.
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