Summer of 2014 was a rough one for me.

In the Millennial age we live in, meeting new people and dating are at the tips of our fingers, literally.

It was during that summer that I met a guy. I finally found a guy that fit the description of the kind of person I've wanted my whole life.

It's been a checklist in my mind ever since I was young:

He had to be brunette, Italian, good to his mom, a football player preferably, held family time as an importance and, most of all, he had to be chubby. I had dated and talked to quite a few guys who came close, but none of them really fit — that was, until I met this one.

Everything was perfect — looking back now, almost too perfect. He showed up to my job with flowers and took me out to dinners and movies. When he asked me to be his girlfriend, he surprised me with a Pandora bracelet. He was attentive and extremely, extremely charming — that's for sure. He always knew what to say. He always knew what to do.

It was all moving a little too fast. We met each other's parents on the same day; we started dating after about a month of talking. It all seemed fine though, because it felt just out of a movie; it all seemed perfect. I began to fall in love with his family, but, more importantly, with how much he loved them.

Finally, I found someone who fit every single requirement I naively had built in my head. I thought that destiny had found its match, but all too quickly, it was gone.

Something in him changed; I knew it the moment he said goodbye when leaving my house. The texts got shorter; the calls got more distant. The next day it was excuses — that he was busy with work, school and his family.

His mood completely changed. He got mean when I asked for answers. He said he had no time for me. He said it was moving too fast. It's funny when the person who made it move at the pace it was going puts the blame on the other person.

Typical.

I was heartbroken; I had no answers. Yeah, I've been through breakups before, but this one was different. This one shook me. This one made me feel terrible about who I was. Did I do something? Was it my fault? What could I have done better? Was I not good enough? These thoughts ate at my mind until I could barely hear my own thoughts.

He left me there with no answers, no remorse and, what's worse, no heart. The guy whom I swore up and down was "the one," the guy who told me he was the one for me, turned into someone so far from it.

One fall day I was cleaning my room, and I found the Pandora box my bracelet came in. I opened it quickly to see if there was a gift receipt so I could just get rid of it. There, on the receipt, was the date on which he bought it in the first place, a month before we even started talking. He told me he got me the bracelet because it "made him think of me when he saw it" and it "represented me so well." It was then I knew he was a liar. It was then I was able to move on, or so I thought.

Two months go by, and I hear nothing. I picked myself up, started my junior year of college and tried to forget about the entire situation. I talked to guys here and there, but I still compared them all to him, the good part of him that made me feel like the lucky one.

Everyone has one ex that they try to justify everything for. "Maybe they didn't mean it like this." "I'm overreacting." "He made a mistake." He was a flat out liar, but I was still too blinded by his charm and wit to even care at that point.

On a random September morning, his name pops up on my phone. "Hey Brittany, can we talk?" My heart dropped, not knowing what to do. We eventually talked, he apologized for what he did, but a part of him was different. He wasn't the same. Maybe this was him all along.

As charming as he was, I could see myself starting to think of him again. I found myself reaching for the phone wanting to text him. It was then I knew I had to make a choice.

It was no longer fair to me to keep going back and forth with him. I deserved happiness. I deserved someone who wasn't going to string me along. I deserved someone who respected me.

I told myself then that I would call him. If he answered, I'd tell him how I felt, and it could go from there. If he didn't answer, I'd leave a voicemail. If he called me back, that was God's sign that he was meant to be. If he didn't, it was God's message that I needed to move on.

I nervously sat in an empty parking lot of my college, staring at my phone waiting to touch his name and start the call. I could feel my heart beat heavily with each ring that came from my phone. It rang and rang and rang. No answer.

I left him a voicemail, saying that I really would like to see him to see if we can give it one more try, at least go back to being friends and see where it went from there.

I'm sure you can assume what happened next. No call. No response. Nothing.

I picked myself up. I told myself this was God's message that something better was in store.

If you had told me that summer that he and I would break up, I wouldn't have believed you. But if you told me that summer that he and I would break up, and I'd end up with someone else, someone much better, I would've seriously thought you were crazy.

But you know what? It happened.

A month after I made that call in that empty parking lot, I met the guy I am with now. The guy I have been with for almost a year and a half. The guy who's Italian, and can eat like one too. The guy who loves his mother and, most importantly, loves his family and family time. The guy who proudly played football in high school, and, most importantly, the guy who was perfectly chubby.

I never thought it could happen, but it did. And it is all thanks to the experience I had with my ex. Now, in no way does this mean I think my ex is a great person; he obviously isn't. But because of his idiotic decisions and bad mistakes, I've become a much better person.

Without him, I wouldn't have the love and respect I have for myself now — the love and respect I need in order to have the healthy relationship I currently do. It was in the darkest time that I realized I was worthy of love and that it was his mistake giving me up, not mine.

Without him, I would still be naive and trusting of everyone I meet. Sad? Yes. But it taught me that no matter how much you think you know someone, you never truly know everything.

Without him, I wouldn't be who I am now. The girl who is happy, the girl who has some scars on her heart, the girl who is mature and the girl who is able to stand up for herself.

And, most of all, without him breaking my heart, I never would have found the love I currently do. The kind of love I have now makes up for the hurt I had. The love I have now is more than anything I could've ever imagined. I can't picture my life without my boyfriend. He's far more than that; he's my best friend. Without my ex making the choice he did, I would never have met the man I have now. Because of my ex, I've found the guy I know I'm meant to be with, the person who connects with me better than anyone ever has, the person who makes me feel beautiful, loved and wanted. I fell in love with his family so quickly, and more so with how he acted around them. Suddenly I realized that God had placed the right person in my hands. Everything happens for a reason.

Breakups are hard; they suck and stop your world for a moment. It is after that blurry moment stops that you need to pick yourself up, give yourself a good, hard look and realize how much better you deserve.

You won't be able to at first, but over time you'll be able to look at him no longer with anger or disgust, but with gratitude.

Without him, and how bad he f----- up, I wouldn't be the happy, loving person I am today.

I can only hope the next girl has a better experience than I did, but if not, that she learns from it how I was able to. I hope she can see through the bulls--- and find confidence in herself after it was all over and never for a second blame herself.

"Your value doesn't decrease based on someone's inability to see your worth."

I am worth so much, and his inability to see and cherish that cost him in the long run. As I'm sitting back happier than I've ever been, I can't say he's doing the same.

He doesn't deserve credit, but he does deserve a thank you. His biggest mistake was my biggest triumph.