I’m 23-year-old man. This past May, I graduated from college. I was met immediately by waves of uncertainty over every decision I was making: where I wanted to live, how I wanted to pursue a career, and most importantly, who I wanted to live with.

At the time of graduating, I was a little over a year into dating someone else in my class, and it had become the most serious relationship I had ever been in. The relationship was wonderful: it was communicative, reciprocal, fun, and sexually exciting. The most prevalent issue was that the conversation around long-term plans was usually vague, especially when it came to living together or marriage.

However, I had made plans with my best friend, a woman, who had graduated the prior year, to move with her once she began graduate school, a plan that predated this relationship. It was made more complicated by the fact that this friend and I have a romantic history; we had been seeing each other casually a few summers ago, but that quickly became a strictly platonic relationship and we haven’t slept with each other since that summer.

I had no job lined up, and a majority of my friends had already left state. I struggled with indecision: do I stay here to make pursuing the relationship my number one priority, or do I move to open myself to new experiences I may never have the chance to open myself to again? I wanted to be there for my girlfriend, but I also valued the more steadfast proposal of my friend, and being able to live with someone I trusted. In the end, I decided to move out of state to be with the best friend, with the idea that my girlfriend (who already had a roommate lined up for the year) and I would do long-distance for a year starting in August, and then I would return to move in with her at the end of the year. Part of me trusted in the strength of what we had built to endure while I tried to answer some of my uncertainties, and maybe return as a more confident boyfriend.

Long-distance became more strenuous than we had prepared for and about a month in, she called me asking to break up. Now, as I look back, I feel awful about the decision that I made. It looks not only impulsive, but cruel to have willingly chosen to move away from a girl I love for an old fling, for nothing more than curiosity and a change of pace, especially since while I’m still in the midst of a job search, little is keeping me in my new home other than a lease and the friend I moved here to be with. New experiences are fun, but they feel hollow without her. I feel as though I pushed her away even though I saw a future with her, and still do.

How do I let her know how sorry I am? Is there any hope for reconciliation and starting again, or have I royally screwed up for good?

– The Graduate