A breakup, a divorce, a friendship ending, even moving to a new city—these are all profound disruptions. We often think that when a situation becomes unbearable, the end should bring relief, even joy. You’ve been living like cats and dogs, the relationship has run its course, and every interaction is exhausting. It's clear to everyone, especially you, that it’s time to part ways. The final words are said, the door closes, and freedom arrives.

But instead of relief, a strange and heavy silence descends. There’s no joy. Why is it that even a long-awaited separation feels less like a liberation and more like a profound loss?

Beyond the Bell: The Habit Machine in Our Heads

To understand this, we need to look beyond simple explanations and consider the work of Ivan Pavlov. Most people know him for his experiments with dogs, bells, and saliva—the conditioned reflex. But his work uncovered something far more profound and relevant to our emotional lives: the dynamic stereotype.

A dynamic stereotype isn't just one simple habit, like salivating at the sound of a bell. It’s a vast, interconnected network of habits, reactions, and expectations that our brain builds over time. It’s the brain’s way of automating our life to save energy. When we live with someone, they become woven into this complex web. They become a central part of our dynamic stereotype. You go to the grocery store and automatically reach for the yogurt they like, even if you don’t eat it. You come home expecting to be met with a certain mood, a certain question, a certain presence. Your brain doesn't just learn about them; it learns around them. This person grows into the very structure of your neural pathways, shaping countless tiny, automatic actions and predictions you make every single day.

This mechanism in our brain doesn't judge whether the relationship is "good" or "bad." In fact, a difficult relationship can create an even stronger, more rigid stereotype. The brain fixates on negative patterns to protect you, making you hyper-aware and constantly prepared for conflict. It’s a survival mechanism.

The Unfinished Action and the Phantom Pain

So, the person leaves. The cat runs away, the dog is gone. You’re finally alone in your apartment. Logically, this is happiness. But your brain doesn’t know the person is gone. It continues to run the old programs.

You walk up the stairs, and your nervous system braces for the usual tense greeting. But you’re met with silence. The program starts, but it cannot complete. This is what some psychologists, like Kurt Lewin and later Frederick Perls in his Gestalt therapy, called an "unfinished situation" or "unfinished Gestalt."

Our psyche is flooded with these incomplete actions. You go to the store and your hand hovers over their favorite snack before you remember. You hear a sound and for a split second, you think it’s them. Each of these moments is a small misfire in the brain, a neural circuit that leads to a dead end. It's like a mental amputation. A part of your brain that was dedicated to interacting with that person has been suddenly rendered useless. What’s left is a bleeding wound, complete with phantom pains. You start to miss them, not necessarily because the relationship was good, but because your brain craves the completion of its ingrained patterns. The suffering begins, and you might even start to romanticize the past, wondering if you made the right decision.

Brain, Consciousness, and the Fire Within

This is where the internal conflict lies. We have three forces at play:

1. The Brain: A machine that values predictability and routine above all else. It hates change because creating new neural connections is hard work, and breaking old ones is stressful.
2. Consciousness: The evaluator. It’s the part of you that sits back and judges, saying, "I don't like this," or "This relationship is toxic, we need to leave."
3. The Feeling: The genuine emotional connection, the "fire" you have for a person, a place, or a job.

When you're in a settled, albeit unhappy, relationship, your brain is content. The automatisms are working. But your consciousness is screaming for change. You finally listen to your consciousness and make the break. You move to a new city, start a new job. Suddenly, you’re in a world of uncertainty. The brain is in distress, and it signals this distress as pain and longing for the old, predictable misery.

As Ecclesiastes says, there is "a time to scatter stones, and a time to gather stones; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing." The most important thing in any relationship—with a person, a job, or a home—is the essence of it. It’s what you truly feel.

If the fire has burned out, your consciousness will have fits, whether you stay or go. If you leave, your brain will torment you with phantom pains for a while. But eventually, it will adapt. It will build new stereotypes, and one day you’ll struggle to even remember their last name. But if that fire, that spark, is still there—or if you can find it for your new life—you will get through the discomfort. That inner drive is what gives you the strength to endure the stress of rewiring your brain. Consciousness will grumble, but it will eventually come around and start to help. This spark is what sustains everything. Without it, you’ll just be a slave to malfunctioning automatisms and a consciousness that dislikes everything, leaving you without the strength to build the new life you deserve.

References

• Pavlov, I. P. (1927). Conditioned Reflexes: An Investigation of the Physiological Activity of the Cerebral Cortex. (G. V. Anrep, Trans.). Oxford University Press.
  This is Pavlov's foundational work. While often cited for the simple conditioned reflex, Lecture XXIII, "The 'Dynamic Stereotype' of the Cortex of the Hemispheres," details his more complex theory. Pavlov describes how a series of consistent stimuli creates a stable, integrated system of responses in the brain, which becomes automatic and resistant to change. The disruption of this "stereotype" leads to significant nervous system disturbances, mirroring the emotional turmoil of a breakup.
• Lewin, K. (1951). Field Theory in Social Science: Selected Theoretical Papers. (D. Cartwright, Ed.). Harper & Row.
  Kurt Lewin, the teacher of Bluma Zeigarnik, laid the groundwork for understanding "unfinished situations." In chapters like "Behavior and Development as a Function of the Total Situation," Lewin explains that an intention to complete a task creates a psychological tension system. If the task is interrupted, this tension persists, causing the person to mentally return to it. This concept directly applies to a breakup, where countless shared "tasks" and routines of a relationship are left permanently interrupted, creating persistent mental tension.
• Perls, F. S. (1969). Gestalt Therapy Verbatim. Real People Press.
  Frederick Perls built his therapeutic approach around the idea of resolving "unfinished business." Throughout this book, particularly in the sections transcribing his workshops, he demonstrates how unresolved past experiences and incomplete emotional expressions linger in the present, consuming energy and causing distress. A breakup is the ultimate "unfinished business," where the entire relational "gestalt" is broken, and the individual must work to find closure and reintegrate their experience to move forward.