Four years, one month, and five days. That’s how long we dated. Four years, six months, and 27 days. That’s how long it took me to realize how much I deserve.
Nothing can make you feel more worthless and depressed than losing someone who you thought was the love of your life. Laying in bed and crying, watching sad movies, eating the entire tub of ice cream—we all handle it differently. I got up at 5 a.m. the next day and went to work. I greeted people with my broad smile and my annoying laugh. I pretended I was fine when I was not. There was this part of me that said everything was fine, that the day before had been a dream, and we didn’t break up, and I didn’t watch you walk away.
But when night fell, it hit me like a load of bricks. Laying in my small bed, I could feel my heart breaking. My stomach was in knots. I regretted our decision; I didn’t want this. I didn’t want us to be done, I wanted you. Was it so wrong of me to want you back so badly that I had to check in on you? Was my broken heart a burden to you when you told me I was crazy and treated you like trash? Was my mental health so worthless to you that your best friend told me to go get “help”?
It was a different type of pain when I realized I meant nothing to you, that I spent four years revolving my life around you, making sacrifices for you, loving you with everything I had, and in return, I was thrown away like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You have nobody to blame but yourself.” That’s what your best friend told me. I was to blame for the pain I felt. My depression was my fault and our breakup is what I deserved. I never cried harder than when I read what he said to me. I couldn’t believe someone could be so cruel to another human being.
I broke that day; I walked around like a zombie. Suddenly, I didn’t care about my existence. If I died that day, I wouldn’t care, because who was I without you? I lost my best friend, the person I loved and confided in. How was I ever supposed to move on? I’m not sure why you didn’t understand that the rupture of an intimate bond between two people spells crisis, and in a breakup, not only are you losing the person you love, but your existence as part of that person’s life is gone.
I’ve been told all my life that there are plenty of fish in the sea, so why the hell couldn’t I get over you and look elsewhere? The answer: Love is a drug. We get used to having a particular substance, and that substance is a person and the relationship in our lives. That substance to me was you. On top of all that, I molded my life around you. We made compromises and future plans; we had a life. We spent holidays together, encouraged each other in school. I loved you, and having to let go of the life we built was destroying me.
It was burned into my brain for months that I simply wasn’t good enough. I had so many questions after finding out that despite my best efforts, you were unfaithful. Your friend told me to drop it, that I was crazy and I made it all up. My questions and anger were annoying to you, as if I didn’t start picking apart my physical appearance and personality traits, questioning what areas I lacked in that would cause someone to fall out of love with me and be with someone else. The pain I have felt for six months is not something you should have brushed aside; the worthlessness I have felt will haunt me forever. It breaks my heart that I ever felt this way about myself.
I forgot how to love myself. I forgot what it was like to look in the mirror and smile. I forgot how to forgive myself for my flaws, for my mistakes. I hated everything about myself—the way I spoke, the way my brain worked, the way I looked. Looking back on that girl is like looking at a toddler who misplaced her favorite doll and had a tantrum. Who I am today is not the girl I thought I would ever be. I am unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with. I deserve a love so rare you see it only in fairytales; I deserve to be myself without having to care about anyone’s opinion. I am confident, healthy, and beautiful; I love everything about myself.
Thank you. Thank you for showing me what I’m worth. Thank you for making me realize what I’m worth. You are nothing to me; my heart doesn’t break anymore when I hear your name, my stomach doesn’t twist when I think of you. In fact, I don’t think of you at all, because why would I spend time on someone who never deserved it in the first place? The lessons I’ve learned, the love and happiness and friends I’ve found, I owe it all to you. Fuck you. That’s all I have left to say to your pathetic life: Fuck you and the way you made me feel. You’re doing good, and I’m doing better.