Obsessed with a friend: a painful limerent setup
Limerence doesn't always strike in the form of a crush on a stranger or a new acquaintance. Sometimes it creeps in quietly, attaching itself to someone already woven into your daily life: a friend. And when it does, the pain can feel uniquely unbearable.
In friendships, there's already built-in closeness: shared history, easy access, inside jokes, regular contact. These elements, which make the relationship rewarding in a platonic sense, become fuel for limerence. They amplify ambiguity. Those maddening mixed signals where affection feels special but never quite crosses into the romantic territory you crave. Every text, every hangout, every casual compliment gets scanned for deeper meaning. You become hypervigilant, reading rejection into a delayed reply or elation into a slightly warmer tone.
This dynamic creates a vicious cycle. The natural ups and downs of any friendship: someone gets busy, plans change, life happens, they all land like emotional earthquakes when you're limerent. A week of less contact can trigger despair; a thoughtful message can send you soaring. The friendship provides just enough "glimmer" to keep hope alive, but never enough to satisfy the bottomless desire for more: more attention, more exclusivity, more proof that you're their favourite person.
The need is insatiable. Limerence isn't content with friendship-level closeness; it escalates endlessly. You might tell yourself, "If only we spent more time together," or "If I could just know that I’m their number one," but spoiler alert: the next level never arrives. Desire is an illusion that promises satisfaction around the corner, yet it always moves the goalposts.
Worse still, this longing can spill over into "acting out." Frustration builds, and it leaks out as passive-aggressive comments, comparisons to other friends, emotional pressure, or subtle bids for reassurance. These behaviours erode trust. Resentment grows on both sides. The friend senses something is off, maybe feels manipulated or smothered, while you feel increasingly paranoid and rejected. What started as a beautiful connection risks turning toxic, even if both people genuinely care about each other.
The No-Contact / Confession Dilemma
One of the hardest parts is the trap of limited options:
Full no-contact feels impossible because they're already embedded in your social world—mutual friends, shared spaces, overlapping routines.
Confession carries massive risk. Disclosing intense feelings can shatter the platonic foundation, leading to awkwardness, withdrawal, or outright loss of the friendship. Even if handled gently, the dynamic often changes permanently.
Many limerents cycle between these two extremes, hoping one will resolve the torment, but both tend to intensify suffering in different ways.
Can the Friendship Survive Limerence?
Sometimes yes—but rarely while the limerence is active. An option is creating safe distance or structured reduced contact. This isn't punishment; it's harm reduction. Especially if your behaviour is being impacted by the limerence and making the friendship more complicated. Give the obsessive attachment space to fade naturally. Limerence thrives on proximity and uncertainty; removing the constant triggers starves it over time.
Practical steps
Take responsibility for your feelings. They belong to you, not the friend. Avoid projecting or seeking them to "fix" your emotional state.
Seek external support. Therapy (ideally with someone trained in attachment, obsession, or relational dynamics) or coaching provides a safe outlet away from the friendship circle. Friends aren't equipped to help you unpack limerence without becoming part of the problem.
Recognise your patterns. Journaling intrusive thoughts, tracking emotional triggers, and educating yourself about limerence (Dorothy Tennov's foundational work is a great start) build self-awareness.
Create intentional space. This could mean fewer one-on-one hangouts, muting notifications temporarily, redirecting energy into hobbies/solitude/new connections, or even life changes (new job, relocation) that naturally lower contact.
Accept there's no blueprint. Recovery isn't linear. Relapses happen. Some friendships rebound once limerence is truly "off"—once the obsession lifts and genuine platonic feelings return. Others don't, and that's painful but often necessary.
Complexity over quick fixes
Limerence toward a friend isn't a character flaw or a sign you're "broken." It's a powerful neurochemical and psychological state that exploits the very closeness we value in relationships. The goal isn't to eliminate feelings overnight or force a fairy-tale resolution. It's to manage the complexity with compassion—for yourself and your friend.
For more insights, check out my video below or book a session via this website.
