To the man who made me feel loved for the first time,

I want you to know that you shattered me into a million tee-tiny little shards of glass, like those of the side window I accidentally-on-purpose busted out of your car on the side of the road you abandoned me on. I want you to know that because of you, my life irrevocably changed, in some aspects for the better, but in many aspects to my detriment. You need to know that I love you with all my heart and soul. I use the word "love" and not "loved" because, whether I like it or not, I will always have a special place in my heart for you. I know this because, even over a year after our break-up, I still can't lay my head down on the pillows we shared without thoughts of you flooding into my brain, making me want to scream and wishing even more that I had never met you, but wanting nothing more than to hear your voice once more, all at the same time.

You made me see the world, seemingly for the first time in my life. You encouraged me to be a better son, brother, friend, student, activist, colleague, and most importantly, a better boyfriend. You helped me see that my flaws and my past did not define who I was. You did this by means of showing me nothing but love and support even after my darkest, dankest secrets had come out of my mouth. You were there for me like nobody else had ever been before. For that, I thank you, and will be grateful for that the rest of my life.

With that being said, I now want to tell you that loving you was the absolute worst experience of my entire life. My life changed so drastically, and it seemed to happen overnight. With one phone call in January of 2015, I became a shell of the person I had previously been.

With that phone call, I began my descent into the deepest, darkest depression that I have ever experienced in my short 22 years of life. With the crippling depression I felt non-stop came the incessant urge to end it all. To take my own life. I even attempted it a few times. Twice by jumping from my balcony, and once by slitting my wrist amidst an argument between us. I did it right in front of you, mostly because I wanted you to feel the pain I was feeling on a day-to-day basis. I know that that broke your heart.

From the bottom of my heart, I apologize for putting you through such heartache. After my third and final attempt on my life, you sat me down and told me, straight-up, "If you kill yourself, you will never see your grandpa in Heaven." That was all I needed to hear, at least at the time, to never attempt it again, even though the desire still seeped up from the scariest corners of my brain.

Our love, according to many who knew us and witnessed our interactions with one another, was epic. Our relationship was a touching, romantic dream, a fairytale, certainly too good to be true, my friends said.

And it was, indeed, too good to be true.

It was too good to be true because, even though I wanted so desperately to trust you, I never did. The things I found out about you a month or so into our relationship, the unfathomable faithlessness made me cringe and shake with rage and jealousy. And yet, I stayed with you because I believed your insistence that you were innocent. I thought that if I just loved you hard enough, you'd see that I was worth keeping. I wanted you to see the potential in me, the broken person slowly rising from the wreckage of his shattered past, like the phoenix being reborn from the ashes of its own death.

I learned how strong a person I am because of you. I was able to fully understand that our relationship happened so that I could come out of it as a more developed, poised individual, ready to take on the world with both barrels blazing. Because of our relationship, I gained a voice and a message that so desperately needs to be heard. As a result of our relationship, I did become a better son, brother, student, friend, and maybe most important of all, our relationship made me a better person.

If it's possible, I love you and hate you, I wish you were right in my arms and that you never existed, simultaneously wrapped up in one person's brain, mine. Let me tell ya, sometimes it drives me insane.

For what's it's worth, I do not regret knowing you. I do not regret loving you.

What I regret, man who obliterated me, is trusting you with my fragile heart and broken soul.

Sincerely,

The boy that almost didn't make it