For months I could’ve thought you were the one for me, but now I understand how naïve I was about you. We started off so well, going out and seeing each other throughout the day. It made me feel like the only girl in the world. It didn’t matter how great my friends' relationships were because ours was always better. But then the dark days came.

You don’t realize how great the “honeymoon” phase of a relationship is until you don’t have it anymore. The little things suddenly cease to exist and somehow I was still okay with that. We stopped going out; you stopped doing spontaneous and fun things with me. The farthest we would go is to the fast food restaurant and come right back and watch an episode of "Family Guy" on Netflix. I was still okay with that.

Then you stopped picking me up. You would tell me to drive to you. I know that was little and I know it didn’t matter, but it wasn’t just once or twice. Those moments in the car were my favorite—the times we would just talk. But then you stopped. As if I wasn’t important enough for you to go out of your way for 10 minutes. I was just “too far away.” Then when I got there you would send me home early, as if you were bored with me. I was something you could just kind of have there and then throw me out because you knew I would come crawling back. And somehow, I was still okay.

My friends would ask me how we were, and I would lie. I would smile and pretend that the texts you sent me didn’t make me cry myself to sleep over and over again. I would put on this act in front of them so I wouldn’t have to feel horrible about myself while they talked about their relationships—the relationships where he actually cared. I convinced myself that this is what a relationship was supposed to be. People fight; it’s totally normal. So I told myself that I was okay.

You called me names to shame me and told me that I would cheat on you. You would put it into my brain that I was the horrible person, not you. Every fight was on me. It’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault. I would bring something up that was bothering me, and you would turn it around and I would end up apologizing for something I didn’t do. I started to believe you after a while. I was a bad person; I was a cheater; I was a slut; I was exactly what you said. I was wrong, and you were right. You made me okay with that.

How could I be so stupid? It took you breaking up with me to realize that the things I had been preaching to my friends were exactly the things you were doing to me. I would tell my friends that he was bad for them, that he couldn’t treat them the way he was treating them, and yet I let you do that to me. I let you walk all over me. Before you, I was independent and didn’t need any kind of boy in my life. All I needed was me, myself, and I. Now, I can’t get away from the feeling that I need someone by my side. You broke me in ways I didn’t know a person could break.

I would ignore everyone around me telling me you were no-good. My sister would tell me bluntly that I needed to break up with you and I would make excuses for you. I would tell her that we were just fine and that’s just how we were. It was normal. But nothing about the way we were was normal and no woman should ever be treated the way I was treated. You abused me. You abused my mind. You took advantage of my life. And yet, you still walk this earth as if you did nothing wrong.

Now, I’m glad I’m over you. I couldn’t be happier with where I am and who I am with. So, I guess I owe you a "thank you." Thank you for breaking us up at the time most convenient for you. Thank you for teaching me that I should be treated like a queen, not a peasant. And most importantly, thank you for being a great life lesson. Without you, I wouldn’t have raised my standards.

And I’d say that "My momma don’t like you and she likes everyone,” but she doesn’t like everyone, and she especially hated you.