You inevitably learn a thing or two when you travel. For example, you may learn that you overpack or that you've found your new favorite city, restaurant or hotel. But they could also be big things.

During summer 2017, I had the opportunity to travel in Europe for two weeks with my high school's language department. My favorite teacher was going and I got to visit France and Italy, two of my bucket list destinations.

There was no doubt in my mind that the trip was going to be amazing no matter what. I spent an entire week in France, seeing monuments and pieces of art that I had only ever dreamed of seeing. I rode bikes around the gardens of Versailles, went up the Eiffel Tower and took pictures, and walked around Montmartre.

I was living my dream for an entire week, but everything turned sour when I got to Rome, and it was completely my fault. There was a problem with me going to Europe for two weeks: it was the longest amount of time I spent away from my boyfriend at the time.

When you're 17 and ~in love~ the world seems to work completely differently.

Friends didn't matter and school-work definitely didn't matter. All I wanted was to spend time with my boyfriend and as much as I hate to say it, going to Europe was putting a wrench in my plans.

The first night that I was in Italy, I got to live out my dreams of being in "The Lizzie McGuire Movie." I saw the Trevi Fountain and ate gelato while walking through the streets of Rome. To this day I don't know how I could possibly be as miserable as I was that night.

I was extremely looking forward to going home and seeing my parents and boyfriend when I got back to Pennsylvania. What can I say? I missed him and silently wished the entire trip that he was there with me.

When I got to Rome, however, you would have thought he called and broke up with me on the spot over the telephone. He told me that the day that I was supposed to get back from traveling was the day he was leaving for his family vacation to Vermont for a week.

I cried.

I was 17, dramatic and crying while walking through the streets of Rome. Our last stop for the night was to see the Spanish Steps, made famous by Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck in "Roman Holiday."

It was kind of like the scene out of a movie if I'm being honest. I was standing at the top of the Spanish Steps, looking out over the beautiful city of Rome and crying my eyes out meanwhile there were couples getting engaged not 20 feet away from me.

I was so angry.

I was angry at him for something he couldn't control, but I was more angry at myself for letting something so little ruin my night. I realized that night that I had let him become way too big of a part in my life.

I was living out a dream that I've had since I was a kid, and I let it be ruined by a boy that I broke up with six months later. I let him control my happiness and it went way too far.

Needless to say, my expectations for the relationship were too high. I still had an amazing trip, but I'm so angry at myself for letting myself be miserable over a boy.