When You Miss Someone (An ex, a friend, a family member)

Missing someone—whether an ex, a friend, or family—often brings a mix of nostalgia and grief, especially when attachment runs deep. The central message here is that coping gets easier when longing is reframed through four philosophical lenses: impermanence, the removal of entitlement, selfless love, and disciplined attention to the present. Together, these ideas aim to turn painful desire into acceptance and purposeful living rather than endless replay of what’s gone.

The first lens is impermanence. People tend to crave permanence even though life is built on change. When a relationship feels good, the mind wants it to last forever; separation then feels like an unnatural rupture. But the argument is that impermanence is not a flaw—it’s what makes life possible and meaningful. If someone’s presence were permanent, they would be unchanging, predictable, and static. The appeal of human connection, by contrast, comes from uncertainty and the fact that both people and circumstances shift over time: interests change, preferences evolve, places move, bodies age, and illness and death arrive. That change is the “sacrifice” of entropy. The practical takeaway is to fully enjoy loved ones while they’re here, while accepting that inevitable change will eventually remove them.

The second lens is removing entitlement. Life comes without guarantees, and nature has never promised specific outcomes like a lifelong stable marriage or an enduring social circle. When someone is missing, dissatisfaction often grows from the belief that the person “should” still be there—that the absence violates a right. The counterpoint is that people are not possessions; at most, they are temporary companions in one’s life. Stoic Epictetus is invoked with a dinner-party metaphor: take what comes “with moderation,” don’t cling when it passes, and don’t stretch desire for what hasn’t arrived.

The third lens is loving without physical presence. Instead of wishing for a return, the focus shifts to loving them selflessly—asking what is best for them rather than what is best for the self. If someone left to pursue dreams or a new life, that separation may reflect their interests, not a personal loss. Even when the outcome isn’t ideal, the response can be goodwill rather than bargaining for utility. This reframes longing into what Buddhists call loving-kindness: an unconditional wish for others’ happiness.

The fourth lens is focusing on the present moment. Missing someone becomes most damaging when attention is repeatedly handed over to past memories and future fantasies. The guidance is to anchor attention in current tasks, conversations, and lived circumstances so the mind can’t keep granting the past control. Marcus Aurelius is quoted to emphasize that only the present matters, and that the mind’s insistence on dwelling elsewhere should be challenged. The final claim is that if love is mutual, the missing person would want the best for the other person—living well now—rather than letting grief close off present opportunities.