An Open Letter To The Boy Who Broke Me
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An Open Letter To The Boy Who Broke Me

You tore me apart, and now I'm putting myself back together

An Open Letter To The Boy Who Broke Me
when you are broken
and he has left you
do not question
whether you were
the problem was
you were so enough
he was not able to carry it

-Rupi Kaur

Hey there,

I’ve been meaning to write this letter for a while now, but I haven’t known where to start. There are so many thoughts and feelings buzzing around in my head, and I simply don’t know how to write them down. In all honesty, if I were to tell you everything I feel, this letter would turn into a 20-page essay. But for now, here is what I know.

About three months ago, you tore me apart. You told me this wasn’t working anymore, that it was done, that you were tired of fighting for us. After fourteen months of being my best friend, you dumped me over text. I asked you to have a conversation about this, but you denied me, claiming you had nothing left to say. You told me you still loved me, yet you broke me. Not only did you break my heart, but all of me began to crumble.

I understand that no relationship can last forever. All couples go through rough patches, ups and downs, breaks, etc. However, I didn’t see this coming at all. Maybe it was because I was blinded by my love for you, but I thought everything was ok. I knew that me leaving for college, and you staying behind in high school would be hard, but I thought we were adjusting pretty well. We texted all the time, we skyped a few times a week, and I even got to come home and see you a couple times. I still remember how my heart started beating faster and the butterflies that I got in my throat when I saw you for the first time in weeks.

Going away to school was especially difficult for me. We were together for a year, seeing each other everyday in high school, and on the weekends too. For 365 days, I spent the majority of them with you. And I loved every second of it. So having to be away from you, somewhere else while you were at home, was incredibly hard. I missed you dearly, but I was willing to wait. To wait for those weekends when I could come home, for our skype calls, and maybe for the day when you would go to college too, hopefully somewhere near me.

When you told me that night that you were questioning our relationship, I was completely blindsided. Yesterday you told me you loved me and wanted to spend your life with me. You told me you wanted to marry me. You said I was your soulmate. A week before, I was at your house, home for the day, and we had such a great time. We played games, cuddled, went on a walk, had dinner, and took those cheesy selfies we always do when we’re together. Nothing seemed different, or wrong at all.

I noticed you seemed stressed. I tried to talk to you about it, comfort you, give you advice, but you said it was ok. You told me you loved me more than anything in the world. Then that night came. You told me that things weren’t working, that they hadn’t been for a long time, that you’d been questioning our relationship for a while. Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? You said our relationship wasn’t healthy, and you blamed it all on me. I tried to fix things, but you wouldn’t give me a chance. You said you couldn’t trust me, because we’d had problems before, and I never did anything to fix them.

But relationships take two people. There is no one person to blame when things go wrong. I knew I wasn’t perfect, and I worked incredibly hard to fix that. I knew I had high expectations, and I worked to lower them. Other than that, your problems with me were unclear, and you said that if I didn’t understand them, that was my problem. But what about you? You had problems too, but I looked beyond them, aside from them, mostly because I loved you and accepted you for who you were. I wouldn’t try to change you, why would you try to change me?

That night I couldn’t sleep. I had a panic attack and my roommates had to take me outside to calm me down. I was falling apart. You were my best friend, I couldn’t lose you. How was it that yesterday you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and today you wanted to be done? How did you make that decision so quickly?

The next day you said you needed space, a break. I said ok. I didn’t want to push you. The days following that were horrible. I missed you. I missed my best friend. After a few days of giving us space, I sent you an email. I asked if we could talk, preferably in person, about where our relationship was going. I said I understood you needed space, and didn’t expect you to have any answers. I told you I loved you and missed you, but most importantly that I had faith in us.

You eventually replied, but you shut me down. You sent me a list of everything I did wrong, and told me how you had been thinking of ending things for a while, that you had been fighting for us for too long. You said it was too late, that you’d love me forever, but we were done. If you were feeling all these things, why didn’t you tell me sooner? It takes communication to make a relationship work. And why would you say you would love me forever when you completely ripped me apart?

But more importantly, how long were you lying to me? How long were you telling me you loved me when you were about to break my heart? How long were you saying that I was your soulmate when you were questioning if we would last? It also takes honesty to make a relationship work, something you clearly lack.

And now, fast forward three months later. I’m not proud of the way I feel. I’m not proud of the fact that I have cried every single day since you left me. I’m not proud of the way I hurt myself, longing for you to come back, hoping this was just a nightmare. I’m not proud of the hours I spend every day thinking about you, knowing you never think of me. I’m not proud that I miss you and want you back, even after all the ways you hurt me. I’m not proud that I would do anything to have you back, to spend one more night in your arms.

And now, three months later, you’re with another girl. You’ve been with her since only a few weeks after we broke up. You’ve replaced me, moved on, found another girl to tell your lies to. To make her feel special, when in reality, you will just break her the way you broke me. To use her body how you used mine, and to break up with her when she is in a different place than you and you can’t use her anymore, just like you did to me. You’ve found a new girl to pick fights with, to make her feel bad about herself, insignificant, to make her feel like every problem in the relationship is her fault.

And now, three months later, I am broken. I am not ok. And I’ve realized, it’s ok to not be ok. Because who would be ok, after being treated like that? After going through that kind of loss? You seem to have been able to pretend you were ok until it became true. You have replaced me with someone else, someone who is physically there, because you are not strong. You are not strong enough to be alone. You are not strong enough to love someone who can be there with all of her heart but not with her body. But I, I am strong. I am strong because I am fighting this battle head on. I am living and breathing and pushing through every day. I am facing the pain head on. I am picking up the broken pieces you left behind. I am feeling things.

And someday, I know, I will be ok. It may not be now, I may be suffering for a lot longer, but someday I will heal. I will find someone who treats me right, who loves me right, who knows how to respect and care for a woman, something that you need to learn. And someday you will have to face what you did, because trust me, karma’s a bitch. You will have your heart broken like you broke mine, and you will understand how it feels. And then maybe you will realize that what you did was not ok.

So even though I am wounded now, I know I won’t be forever. Thank you for showing me that I deserve more, so much more. My love is worth too much to waste it on you.


The Girl You Left Broken

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.

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