Because of you, I became "that girl." The girl who broke girl code.

I met you at a party, you came as the date of one my best friends, Jennifer*, but we had an instant connection. You and I had so much in common, from the books we liked, to writing, to movies, and music. Later that week, we had a nine hour Facebook conversation, and you became my friend. I told Jennifer that you gave me your number, which started the fight that ended your relationship with her. I felt like a home wrecker for a week. But then you messaged me again, and everything seemed fine.

It started out innocently enough. I was just being nice at first, but then you asked me out on a date. We got into a car accident and my hot coffee spilled into my lap, but I thought it was funny. I was too enraptured by you to feel any different. You were charming and smart, and knew exactly what to say. We went on adventures in Dallas. I met your college friends and your family. You took me to places I’d never been before. Soon, just spending time with you was all I wanted. I was completely swept off my feet, and given everything that I’d read about in romance novels.

I thought it would be OK, I thought she would forgive us, after all, she had tried to set me up with you. But I was selfish, and didn’t think about how much it would hurt her.

I thought our relationship was perfect, we were so alike, and wanted the same things in life. You were the happy ending to my very own fairytale. Everything would be alright in the end because we had each other, right? But the stress of keeping our relationship a secret, of having hurt Jennifer, was too much strain on us. Just three months after the beginning it all came crashing down in my front yard. And it was all over faster than it had begun.

I had become the girl I hated, the one that every girl hates. And I had nothing to show for it.

The next time I saw you, I remember thinking that I had won the breakup. That I was happier without you. Little did I know how quickly you would draw me in again.

You had a way of manipulating people, of using them to get what you wanted. And boy, did you want me back. You showed up at my work, brought me gifts, and texted me to let me know you were thinking about me. You left me a birthday present on my front porch. You dried my tears when I was wounded and hurting. It felt good to be wanted again. I craved the attention you gave me, and you knew it.

When you said you loved me, I was no longer afraid about what the future held. You said that you wanted to change for me, and I was no longer hesitant. I thought that our time had finally come, that we were old enough to fight for our relationship. I thought I finally had everything that I wanted, everything that love songs are made of.

But then I told co-workers about the problems that we started having. About the break down in communication, about how you made me feel. I was stubborn, and swore that we could fix whatever the problems were. But I gradually realized that what we had wasn’t love, not at all. I couldn’t even tell my friends about us being back together – they hated you. I couldn’t tell my family- they knew you were bad for me.

It hurt like hell to hear you say that didn't love me anymore, and that you didn't think you ever loved me to begin with. I fought you that night, and said I could try harder, when in reality I was the only one who tried at all.

It was a relief when we broke it off for the last time. I wasn’t responsible for your happiness anymore. I didn’t have to woo you back into loving me. I didn’t have to keep you a secret anymore.

I never hated you, but, oh did I hate who you made me become. I was so wrapped in you that I lost myself. I became swayed by your emotions. Without you, I hardly knew who I was.

If you were tired, it was my fault for taking up your precious time. If you were sad, it was because I couldn’t make you happy enough. If you were mad, it was because I wasn’t there for you when I should have been.

Through all of the pain and the hurt, I want to thank you. To thank you for allowing me to learn more about myself than I ever imagined. For pushing me to become a woman who knows that I deserve more than you. For teaching me to trust and respect myself again. For finally letting me see that I didn't need your love in order to be valuable. I used to regret being with you. But now I'm thankful. Thank you for being my biggest mistake and my best lesson. I thought you had broken my heart, but in reality you made me stronger than ever.

I can now listen to “our” song without hearing that old voice. I can read the books you gave me and think of only how much I love the stories within the pages. I can wear the scarf you gave me, and not think of how we used to walk hand in hand.

The truth is, even though I’m writing this, I don’t miss our little talks. I don’t even miss you, really. It took time, oh did it take time. But it happened, and I learned so much. I learned to be careful to draw the line, to not make the line blurred between a friends and more than a friends. I am not responsible for the emotions of anyone but myself. My family and friends will always be there for me, to pick me up when I fall. Even the ones I'd hurt the most supported me. I was forgiven by my friend, even though I didn’t deserve it, and I am so grateful.

Since you’ve gone away, I’ve been on more adventures than I ever imagined or of which I thought I was capable. I moved to a new city. I now have an apartment with three of my best friends. I’ve joined a group of women whom I can call my lifelong sisters. I became a leader on campus. I’ve explored caves and I’ve climbed mountains. I dyed my hair red, then purple. I pierced my nose, and I got a tattoo. Not for you – but for me, because I no longer questioned who I was. I no longer needed your approval to feel good about myself.

Eventually, I learned I wasn’t “that girl,” at least not the girl I thought. I was just the girl who had believed in someone too much. Who believed that someone could change. But that’s not a bad thing. I no longer think of you as a monster, just a man, a man who didn’t deserve to call me his in the first place.

*Names and details have been changed