Another cautionary tale here. Lived with my ex for a year before he left, telling me that he loved me with all of his heart but he just couldn't give me what I wanted (nothing too outrageous, just for him to be faithful). After two very painful years of dating and trying to convince him I was perfect for him, I finally managed to cut contact completely, helped by him telling me that he did want to be in a relationship, just not with me (even though he still loved me and it was breaking his heart to walk away). I begged him to tell me that his feelings for me were gone, because it would be easier to understand why he was leaving and I could just get on with accepting it was over, but he refused to do that and insisted he was still very much in love with me, he just didn't want to actually be in a relationship with me. Or date me. Or see me.
Eight years later, I'm very happily married to DH when up he pops. He still loves me, can't believe he let me go, has thought about me every day since he left and would leave his girlfriend for me like a shot if only he had somewhere to go 🙄
When we were together, I worshipped the ground he walked on. I would have done anything or gone anywhere to have made him happy. We had no distance issues, no problems with family or children that meant we couldn't be together. If he had truly loved me, wild horses would not have been able to drag him away. And that's what made it slightly easier to cut contact, I think. Realising that he couldn't love me and do what he was doing, so I was wasting my time trying to convince him I was the one for him.
When he came crawling out of the woodwork, it was not because he'd realised I was actually the perfect woman for him. It was because he needed rescuing from a situation he didn't want to be in and wasn't up to the job of being a grown up and sorting his own life out. I have no doubt that, had I gone along with it, we'd have been together for less than a year before he was contacting the next ex, telling her that she was the one for him. I always thought I'd feel rather victorious when he came back (I always knew he would). Instead, I felt a combination of relief that I'd married a man who really understands the meaning of love, and sadness that he thought so little of me that he believed he could click his fingers and I'd come running.