It was my senior year of high school and I didn’t expect to meet anyone new or exciting. I was ready to explore my options in college and of course, things don’t always happen the way that you expect them to. So the last few months of my high school career, I met a boy. And wow, this boy was everything I wanted him to be. He was nice, caring, and EXTREMELY attractive. I really couldn’t ask for anything better. We eventually went to prom together and there, he asked me to be his girlfriend. From there on, I never felt happier.
This relationship blossomed to be one of the best adventures ever. He was great, my summer was great. Everything was so freaking great! I could remember watching the stars and seeing my first shooting star with him. I could remember going to the aquarium and experiencing new things. I could remember walking 7+ miles in Chicago just enjoying each other’s company. I could remember the first time I said: “I love you.” We had been saying that phrase for the longest time but one day it was different. It took me more than 45 minutes to build up the courage to say “I love you” and mean it. Tears streamed down my face at that exact moment because I never felt this way about anyone before. In the short months, we had together, I knew I was in love.
Summer eventually came to a close and I couldn’t have wished for a better one. I had an amazing boyfriend, friends, and I was going to attend my dream school. Literally, 7th heaven. I was on cloud 9. Then, there was a stark change, once I got to school. We talked less. We drifted apart. A month later, a happy couple turned into two broken beings. Or, to say the least, I was the broken one. I remember distinctly how I felt at the moment of the break-up. We both knew it was coming, but that didn’t shake my overly anxious, hypersensitive feelings. I could feel my chest tightening. It got harder and harder to breathe.
Gasping for my breath with tears streaming down my face, everything was silent. There was no other outside noise and all I can picture him saying is “we’re over.” I repeated this in my head over and over again. I kept asking myself if this was it, if this was REAL? Hell Yeah it was. It was undeniable and all you could see is the endless amount of mascara dripping from my face. Then we went our separate ways and I had to go back to my life. The time that was supposed to be so new and exciting, the time for amazing adventures. That quickly ended because everything changed. I was shattered. I no longer felt like myself. I felt so horribly lost that I just wanted to go away... forever. Weeks after, I continued to cry. All I did was cry. I couldn’t even hold myself up in class. I would just sit there, trying to focus on my studies, but the sheer memories that loom through my head about “him” masked everything else. After class, I’d cry walking back home. Once I got home, I’d look in the mirror to tell myself that I was strong, but then cry because I actually felt so horribly weak. My cries were the worst at home because there was no one around to judge me. You can hear the pain in my voice. My heart broke a little more each time, because again, it was that incredible pain. It felt like my heart strings were all becoming detached at once as I replayed the moment of the break up over and over again in my head all the way until I would fall asleep, my pillow wet with tears. Every. Single. Night.
As you can guess, I slipped into a depression. I kept to myself. I didn’t talk to anyone. I stopped eating. To say the least, I guess you could say I was dying. That boy, I thought was my world broke me to pieces and I really thought I had no more purpose in life because I thought he was my life. Now, thinking back, I don’t know why I cared so much. We did have many wonderful memories, but in the end, I realized he wasn’t worth my time and energy.
He never thought twice to text or call me to see how I was doing. He moved on exceedingly fast, even partied the day after we broke up. How cruel to think that I wasted my time, my energy, my soul on someone like him because he didn’t care about me the way I cared about him. This realization didn’t come as fast as I hoped, taking me more than a full year to realize that I no longer needed him. The fact is, I NEVER needed him.
During my recovery process, I found myself again. I did things for myself out of pure joy. I found that I didn’t need a boy who held me back from my dreams. I didn’t need a boy who belittled me. I didn’t need a boy who didn’t care. I came to the conclusion that I needed a MAN, a man who will continually support me in all my goals and aspirations. I need a man that will stick up for me. I need a man who is independent, dependent, and interdependent on our relationship.
I have yet to find this man, but this event made me realize that one day I will. That’s why I’m thanking my first tragic heartbreak because it showed me how to respect myself. It showed me that I am a strong, independent woman that needs no man to live life. So thank you to that boy who broke my heart because a queen doesn’t need a joker like you.
