It took me 10 years to finally understand what he meant when he said "I love you but I'm not in love with you"

When Michael said those words to me across our kitchen table ten years ago, I nodded like I understood. I didn't.

I spent the next decade replaying that conversation, dissecting every word, convinced there was some hidden message I'd missed. But the truth is simpler and more complicated than I ever imagined.

1. The phrase isn't code for anything else

For years, I assumed "I love you but I'm not in love with you" was just a gentle way of saying something harsher.

Maybe he never really loved me at all. Or perhaps he'd found someone else. I created elaborate narratives to explain what seemed like a contradiction.

But according to relationship psychology, there actually are two distinct types of love: passionate love and companionate love. They're not the same thing, and understanding this difference finally made sense of what I'd been told.

Passionate love is that all-consuming, can't-eat-can't-sleep feeling. It's physiological, tied to dopamine rushes and obsessive thinking. Companionate love is steadier, built on intimacy and commitment rather than intense desire.

When someone says they love you but aren't in love with you, they're describing the shift from passionate to companionate love. The problem? One person often makes this transition before the other.

2. Both kinds of love are equally valid

I used to think companionate love was "less than" because it lacked that electric charge.

But that's not actually true. Research shows that companionate love, characterized by deep attachment and mutual care, is often what sustains long-term relationships when the initial passion fades.

The issue isn't that one type of love is better. It's that when you're still feeling intense passion while your partner has moved into companionate territory, you're speaking different languages.

I was still experiencing butterflies. He was experiencing comfort and affection, which felt like a downgrade to me but was simply a different emotional state for him.

3. The transition happens gradually, then suddenly

What I've learned is that falling out of passionate love doesn't happen overnight, even though the realization often does.

Research shows that most people describe a slow decline in intense romantic feelings, followed by a pivotal moment when they suddenly recognize the shift has happened.

He probably didn't wake up one Tuesday and decide he wasn't in love anymore. More likely, small changes accumulated over months or years. Work prioritized over date nights. TV replacing conversation. Physical intimacy that decreased but went unaddressed.

Then came the moment of clarity. For me, that moment came ten years later when I realized I'd done the exact same thing in my next relationship.

4. It's not about finding fault

I spent so long trying to figure out what I did wrong.

Was I too needy? Not interesting enough? Did I let myself go? The self-criticism was relentless and ultimately pointless.

The shift from passionate to companionate love isn't usually about anyone failing. It's a natural process that happens in most long-term relationships. According to research, passionate love typically lasts between six months to two years before transitioning to something else.

Some couples navigate this transition together, finding ways to maintain intimacy and connection while accepting the change. Others, like Michael and me, experience it at different times and struggle to reconcile that mismatch.

What I wish I'd known then is that his feelings weren't a judgment of my worth. They were simply his honest experience of where he was emotionally.

5. You can love someone and still need to leave

This was the hardest truth to accept.

I kept thinking that if he truly loved me, even in a companionate way, we should be able to make it work. Love should be enough, right?

But love, in any form, isn't always sufficient to sustain a relationship. Sometimes the gap between passionate and companionate love is too wide to bridge. Sometimes what you need and what someone can give simply don't align anymore.

He genuinely cared about me. He wanted good things for me. But he also recognized that staying would mean denying both of us the possibility of finding relationships where everything actually matched.

Leaving someone you love is possible. It's even sometimes the most loving choice.

6. The real issue is vulnerability and emotional intimacy

Looking back now, I think the passion faded because we stopped being vulnerable with each other.

We'd gotten comfortable, yes, but we'd also stopped sharing our fears, dreams, and deeper selves. Research shows that emotional vulnerability is essential for maintaining intimacy in long-term relationships.

Without vulnerability, you might still have affection and care, but you lose that deep connection that distinguishes romantic love from friendship.

We'd become pleasant roommates who occasionally had sex. We were kind to each other, mostly. But we weren't really seeing each other anymore, not in the way that creates lasting passion.

If I could go back, I'd push us both to have harder conversations earlier. To admit when things felt off instead of pretending everything was fine.

7. Understanding doesn't make it hurt less, but it does help

Even with all this knowledge, hearing "I love you but I'm not in love with you" still stings.

It's a rejection, even if it's delivered with compassion. It means someone you want to be with doesn't want the same thing, at least not in the way you need them to.

But understanding the psychology behind it has helped me stop personalizing it. He wasn't saying I was unlovable. He was saying our relationship had evolved into something different than what he needed to feel fulfilled.

That knowledge didn't save our relationship. But it did save me from carrying confusion and self-doubt into my next one.

Final thoughts

Ten years later, I can finally hear those words without feeling like my world is ending.

I understand now that passionate love and companionate love aren't just different intensities of the same feeling. They're fundamentally different emotional experiences, each valuable in its own way.

The phrase "I love you but I'm not in love with you" isn't cruel or meaningless. It's often an honest attempt to describe a complicated emotional reality: caring deeply for someone while recognizing that the romantic spark has shifted into something else entirely.

Sometimes that shift means letting go. And that's okay. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is acknowledge the truth and give each other permission to move on.