I have always been too optimistic for my own good.

I see light in the most hopeless situations. I have strong, unwavering faith that everything is going to be okay, even as I stare directly into the face of fear. I love, even when the people I fall for have deemed themselves as unlovable.

That’s why the moment I met you, I knew you were going to be the death of me.

You gave me pieces of your heart and taunted me with glimpses of your soul. You told me your stories with no beginning and end. You loved me when it pleased you to. Your so-called love came with many conditions. It seemed that I had to do this and that to earn the right to be with you. That I had to put you above all else to win your affection.

It was never enough. But still, the hopeless romantic in me had to try.

I was like a child, constantly hungry for your attention. A prisoner, yearning for the day my liberation arrived—when you would finally love me back. I became an empty shell of myself, forever giving everything I had, while you just took with no remorse and never any return.

Your words were abrupt and cold. But I was too happy to fill in the blanks for you. My over imaginative mind made up what I thought you meant. You were withdrawn and distant. I had no idea what you were thinking most of the time. My overwhelming optimism convinced me that all you needed was time. That one day, you would be touched by my effort, by my refusal to give up on us, and by the great lengths I was willing to go for you.

I was willing to wait for you however long it took. I would have given up everything for you in a heartbeat. I wanted to make you the center of my universe and worshiped the ground you walked on.

Until one day, something in me finally snapped.

My heart was heavy where hope used to lie. My eyes that were once brimming with happiness were blank and dull. My soul was weary and lifeless devoid of all my previous energy.

I felt tired of fighting for something that was not mine. I felt disillusioned that love wasn’t the kind and beautiful thing I always thought it was. I felt defeated knowing with a cold certainty that there was nothing I could do to make you feel the way I felt about you.

And then I did something I thought I was incapable of doing.

I let you go.

It killed me with every step I took away from you. I had to force myself to look ahead instead of wanting to catch the last glimpse of you. It took all my discipline and will power to stop myself from running back.

It was a slow and excruciatingly painful process. There were times when I missed you so much that I thought anything was better than a life without you. But I persisted. I stood my ground and didn’t go back to what broke me. I held my head high, deciding that my self-worth was more important than a boy who only cared about himself.

Now, I smile knowing that I did the right thing.

To fight for my own happiness, I have to stop fighting for you.

And I’m happier now without you.