Up until now, things made sense. Life was about school and work and being surrounded by the most positive and uplifting people you could find. Life was about high school drama and locker decorations; or else, about the never-ending college process and breakfast dates before graduation. Life was about summers spent in anticipation for the fall., daydreaming about the freedom you could almost taste. It was about doing this together. About having support--at first, from me. And later, from him.

You gave him parts of yourself, slowly. You shared your laughter with him, and then your insight, and then your passion. You spent months giving up as much as a guarded girl can and then when you thought you’d given him enough to trust he’d stay—he left anyways.

And there aren’t enough words to heal all the hurt you’re feeling, but I figured I should try, for you and for every other girl going through their first heartbreak:

Trust him when he says he’s done. Trust him when he stops calling and texting and chooses other people over you.. Believe him when he promises you he doesn't have time because he doesn't care to make time. Believe him when he asks you to remove the pieces of him that comfort you. Take his word when he stops giving you them; when suddenly you are not the girl he loves, you are the girl he thinks could’ve been better.

You could not have been better. There is no better. There is no should’ve or could’ve in the way you loved him, no matter what excuses he’s made. Restrain yourself from believing you could have been more honest, more empathetic, more compassionate, more loving or accepting or intelligent or exciting. There’s no better than who you are and how you love in that moment. Your best is enough, always.

Stop texting him. Stop calling, and waiting for a call back. Stop crying into his voicemail. Stop scrolling through his Instagram posts and comments. Stop watching his Snapchat story repeatedly, waiting to find him hurting or alone—you won’t. Stop making yourself available for his convenience. Stop spending time wondering what you could’ve done. Stop looking in the mirror and hating the person who wasn’t enough to make him stay.

You are not made of metaphors or apologies or punch-lines. You are not a snack or a riddle or a joke. You are not someone he can curl himself around in confusion or anger and be expected to stand firm to support his weight.

You are in your teens, in a whole new world, trying to figure it all out. You’re missing the days when things were simple and easy and they made sense; when it didn't hurt to breathe or speak or think because somehow, the pain found it’s way back to you, I know.

This won’t last forever. Consider this your growing pains, love. It’s not fair, or right, and it won’t make sense for a really long time, but hurting like this will take up a special place in your soul, in a good way. It will become the ground under your feet, sturdy and concrete for the next time a boy promises to stay and doesn’t. This won’t last forever. Breathe...You are still made of magic and of light—even if he can’t see that.