Almost two years ago now I went through one of the toughest breakups of my entire life. But that’s just it, and that’s all it is to me now in retrospect; a breakup. At the time I thought I would die, shrivel into a ball of sadness and guilt, forever a shell of my former self. I was wrong. I became better. Two years later I am happier than I’ve ever been, in a healthier relationship than ever before, and with some insight I only wish I’d had before I made a total and desperate ass out of myself. But I still don’t regret, because I learned and I moved on, and so will you.
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This seems like a decent idea, a win-win; maybe it will even end up being better this way, we often rationalize. “We won’t have the pressure and issues that came along with dating, but we can still be in each other’s lives.” Nope.