I’m Glad You Came Into My Life, But I’m Happier Now That You’re Gone

You see, here’s the thing about guys like you—you make women feel hopeful. You’re a light in the dark, a shimmer of hope—something to believe in. You make us feel alive. The kind of alive the Sun feels every morning as it rises, or that feeling you get in your bones when the one you love says those three magic words for the first time. That same kind of hope that keeps you up at night, smiling to yourself in bed because it’s been months since you’ve felt this important. The kind of hope that means something.

So, there you were, acting as if you had any intention of staying here permanently. You did everything right, in fact, you exceeded all the expectations that I had set for you. You see, your kind was no stranger to me, and at first I had shut you out. But, somehow, you found the key, and in you came.

Things were perfect, weren’t they always? You were genuine, authentic. We talked for hours about anything and it was easy because you had this way of taking down my walls without me even noticing. We were happy, at least that’s what it felt like. You were happy, right?

Then the growing pains came. The “I’m tired tonight, can we hangout tomorrow instead?” texts became an everyday occurrence. Tomorrow turned into two days, two days turned into a week. I didn’t understand, but I trusted you. I continued to give you the benefit of the doubt—you assured me that you were different, you weren’t like the rest, and I believed you, because what did I have to lose?

The talking became less frequent—it seemed like you had no desire to check up on me. I told myself it was fine, because you were busy, right? But the truth is, this was your plan all along, wasn’t it? You made me feel important, important because for once in my life someone was noticing me for me.

So, thank you, asshole, for entering my life and fucking it up the way that you did. But more so, thank you for leaving. Thank you for showing me that nothing in life is permanent, and not everyone that we meet is meant to stay. Momma always told me wrong time, right person, but maybe you’re just the wrong person—maybe you’re even the problem. Our time together was short, and although our ending was bittersweet you showed me that all things must come to an end.

When I look back now, I’m beyond thankful for our journey together. You taught me so much. You taught me that life can hit hard, and when it does, get the hell up. You taught me that if someone wants to be with you, they don’t make excuses, they just act upon it. You taught me that everything that glitters isn’t always gold.