THIS WEEK, WE opened up our emails to people who had long-lost loves on their minds ahead of Valentine’s Day.

The jumping off point was a message to the Brendan O’Connor Show that went semi-viral last weekend about a same-sex relationship that came to an end.

We asked our readers to share their own stories of missing out on a love or potential love.

We got plenty of responses. Some were long love stories about how people met The One, which wasn’t exactly the assignment. Some were structured like poetry and wouldn’t quite work in an article here. Some were borderline erotica and not really publishable.

We did get some lovely response too. Some tinged with regret but others just basking in some happy memories.

Here is a selection.

A 46-year-old woman from Dublin on the first woman she was ever attracted to

Dated men all my life. Dated one man at the time who I married but we were never happy and separated. I stayed single for a long time, a very long time!

Then three years ago I went to a boarding school to visit it for my son. I walked by this woman outside the boarding house that literally stopped me in my tracks. I could not understand how I felt so overwhelming attracted to her after dating men my whole life and being married to a man.

I couldn’t understand this huge attraction and from that day to this I cannot get this woman out of my head.

So my son started the school and boards, he had many difficulties in the first year and this woman helped every step of the way the more I met her the worse my feelings became.

I found myself asking her for meetings even when I had nothing to say just to see her.

Normally I will break every rule in the book but obviously there’s a code with teachers and your kids. But never ever in my entire life have I felt so overwhelming attracted to a woman, a man, anyone.

I spoke to friends about it I am even getting help for it because I didn’t understand it and maybe my whole life I chose wrong because of my upbringing.

But this woman, although I can not approach her and tell her all of this, t feels like for the first time in my life I genuinely love someone for who they are inside and out.

To try and solve the problem I joined a dating site (jesus). I dated a few women even one for nearly a year but there is no doubt in my mind that the only person in life for me is the person I met three years ago.

I know she is gay she doesn’t hide it, but not being able to approach her and tell her is crippling! Maybe one (day) I will be able to tell her. She consumes all my thoughts and dreams, she is just amazing.

A man in his mid-40s on a move abroad that didn’t work out

In 2011, I moved to Australia on a working holiday visa. My girlfriend wanted to come too but she had already used her visa after university.

The only option for her was a tourist visa, which meant she wouldn’t be able to work unless I secured sponsorship. I felt that would put too much pressure on me, so I suggested she come later if the opportunity arose.

After being made redundant, she decided to join me anyway. I began working, while she stayed at home each day. At first it seemed manageable, but over time the lack of structure and purpose affected her mental health. After six months, she chose to return to Ireland where her sister could help her find a job in the UK.

She told me she wouldn’t return to Australia, even if the option came up for her to join me on a de facto visa. She wanted me to come back to Europe instead. I felt hurt and betrayed, and in a moment of impulsiveness, I deleted her from Facebook.

Looking back, I realise I wasn’t in a healthy place mentally myself, though I didn’t recognise it at the time. In 2011, mental health wasn’t as openly discussed as it is now.

I stayed in Australia until the end of 2013, then returned to Ireland hoping to reconnect. I reached out several times, but she wasn’t open to meeting again.

I left Ireland a few months later and have lived abroad since. I haven’t had a girlfriend since that time.

A 42-year-old woman in Dublin with a tale of timing

We met at a time when both of us were with different people but there was an instant connection. We both knew it but couldn’t act on it.

My relationship ended and I moved abroad for a number of years. I came back to Ireland and we randomly bumped into each other 13 years later in a pub. And all the attraction came flooding back.

What followed was the most intense, loving, honest relationship I have ever been in.

Unfortunately, I hurt him and he ended things and I can’t fault him for protecting himself. But I know that he is my soulmate. I know that I will never have that level of intimacy or connection with another person. I only wish for him happiness and to find someone who sees how incredible he is. Whoever it is they will be the luckiest person in the world.

And I’ll always have the memories of a man who adored me and I adored back.

A man on his long-distance post-college relationship in the ’90s

I met the only girl I ever fell in love with at first sight in UL in 1997. She had the most amazing green eyes and she literally cast a spell on me the first time I saw her across a room at a party.

A few days later I saw her walking back from the shop in the rain and I stopped her in her tracks and introduced myself. I told her I had never before fallen for someone at first glance in my life and asked if she’d go for a drink with me, which she did.

We ended up spending the next 18 months together in what was an amazing relationship.

The only problem was, she was the year ahead of me, which meant I had to go back to Limerick in September 1998 while she got a job and stayed on in Dublin. That’s when the problems started.

I’m not looking for sympathy, but kids these days have no idea what it was like trying to maintain a long distance relationship in the 90s before mobile phones and WhatsApp etc.

She was living at home and had access to a phone, but every time I wanted to speak with her I had to go to an outdoor pay phone and freeze my nuts off while pumping coins or phone cards into it at a time when funds were in very short supply.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have the staying power to do that all winter while not seeing her much and I ended up breaking it off when she visited one weekend. She was devastated and I didn’t feel good about it either. I regretted it deeply a few weeks later, but in those days it wasn’t easy to reconnect with someone to plead for forgiveness. When she moved out of her mother’s house I lost all contact.

I moved to Dublin the following year and always kept an eye out for her when I was out. I was ready to beg for a second chance. And finally, a few years later, I saw her.

She was walking through Temple Bar on her own looking as amazing as ever. I was desperate to make the right impression and win her heart back. The only problem was, she had seen me first and it was clear she didn’t approve of the Canadian girl who was writing her phone number on a beer mat using my back for support.

As soon as I saw her, I ran after her, but she dismissed me with these fateful words,“it looks like you’re busy there” and walked on never to be seen again. Of all the times for our paths to cross. I’ve run that scene through my head thousands of times since.

I know she’s married with kids now, as I am, but she still occupies a special place in my heart.

A 40-year-old woman in Dublin on a difficult ending

Our friends used to say it was like we spoke another language. We had a connection, a shared sense of humour, and that rare feeling of being truly seen.

There were ups and downs; distance, immaturity, the reality of single-parent responsibilities and yet it always felt like something we could work through. Like, somehow, we’d get there.

An unexpected pregnancy changed everything. A termination abroad followed, and with it blame, resentment, guilt and pain. We didn’t survive it.

More than a decade on, I still think of you as the best friend I ever had. You’re settled now; I’m alone. You’ve had more children; I still have one.

I think of you often, even though I know I probably never cross your mind. I carry regret; for my behaviour, for things I said, for how I handled moments when I should have been kinder or braver.

I hope regret doesn’t last forever. I hope the pain eventually lessens, and that one day this love will feel more like gratitude than loss.

A 29-year-old man from Dublin on a long-term relationship fizzled out

It’s been a year and a half now. We met when we were sixteen, still in school, at a party.

We stayed friends through school and college. I moved abroad, and the first weekend I came home, I ran into you again. It felt like the start of something beautiful like a love story you see in the movies.

Seven years after first meeting, we were together. And I was happy we were happy.

Then Covid hit, but we made it through in one piece. I still think about your smile, your singing in the shower, your laugh, your beautiful, artistic hands. You’re always on my mind.

Then things shifted. Priorities, maybe. The question of children became the chisel that split us. You wanted kids. I wasn’t sure.

We tried to work through that anyway, even after you told me things felt different, that maybe we weren’t compatible. I didn’t know how to hear that from someone I loved so deeply.

A breakup in October. A text the next day asking to get back together.

A breakup in February. Another text the next day.

A breakup in August. But this time, no text.

One foot in front of the other, I navigate life with a you-shaped hole in my soul.

Months later, on your birthday, you texted saying things had changed, that things were clear now. We met again. Reconciliation? Two weeks later, it was clear your gut hadn’t changed after all. Disappointment struck like Cupid’s arrow. I wondered what it was about me that you couldn’t hold onto.

We never moved in together, though we lived a stone’s throw apart. There’s no route to work that doesn’t pass your place. You might still live there. I don’t know. I don’t see your car anymore. I have you blocked everywhere.

I think about you every day. I hope you’re doing well. You taught me so much about loving and being loved, and I’m forever grateful. I miss you.

I look for you in every person I meet. I want nothing more than for life to bring you happiness, even if that life no longer includes me.