I’ve only been in about 3 real relationships that I consider noteworthy. In the first two, I ended things. The last one, however, was complicated, to say the least.

I’m not going to go into detail, because it doesn’t really matter what I have to say, but it was the worst of the three break-ups for me.

My heart was broken. I felt like I wanted to die for at least a month following it. I had already been depressed before what happened, but it got worse. I wasn’t eating, I was always in bed either sleeping or crying and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about it.

It’s not something people like to talk about, and I haven’t ever really talked about it before, but I need you to know where I was starting out at the beginning of this semester.

After going to see a university counselor twice, I decided, like I have my entire life, that I don’t need help picking myself back up. I’m not exactly sure if this was a good decision because of how much I still bottle up, but that’s what I did.

Over the past six months, give or take, I decided that I wanted to live my life as a big “fuck you” to my ex - which, I’ll admit, is a little petty, but I’d like to think it’s working so far. I noticed that when I was in relationships I would lose parts of myself, so I decided to pick everything back up again, but better.

I started to draw again. I joined a new film club on campus. I began writing blog posts like I used to. I wrote an article for a school magazine about this amazing show I had gotten hooked on. I got an internship with a local non-profit organization at Lake View Cemetery. I made socializing and making new friends more of a priority.

I did all this by myself, alone, but also not.

I have to give some credit to my friends and parents, who put up with a decent about of tears and anger. My roommates, for instance, took me out to Barrio and Mitchell’s the night after we broke up. They put up with so much of my crap, it would be a sin not to give them some recognition.

Anyhow, I’ve started to realize how much of a blessing it was to go through that heartbreak when I did.

If I were still dating that guy, I would’ve been more disconnected and socially behind. If I were still dating him I wouldn’t have pushed myself as hard as I have the past six months. If I were still dating him my world would be smaller.

Worst of all, if I were still dating him I wouldn’t have the confidence and motivation that I have now.

I think it’s safe to say that I’m glad he broke my heart because I would’ve never learned more about who I am and who I want to be.