In my lifetime, I've seen happiness come and go. There are certain memories I look back on and can feel the joy of those moments creeping back through my bones. From summer camp to lazy days at the lake—my heart reminisces with such joy. However, there are times of happiness in my life that I look back on and cringe. Questions arise within me—"how could I have been so foolish?" or "how did I let myself fall so hard?" I search, but the answer is far beyond me. I was convinced—he would never hurt me. I look back six months since he did, my pieces put back together, and somehow still must search for the answers to these questions.

I've spent the last six months trying to discover what it was about me that made things hit rock bottom so fast. I look to the times I was sprawled out of the floor, my heart in pieces, and the love of my friends that picked me back up. I think about the time I looked at myself in the mirror and forced myself to say, "I am worth it," because he made me feel more unworthy than anything else. Lastly, I think about the hardness my heart has built up toward him, our memories, and everything in between—because I'm still not quite sure how you can say "I love you" to someone, and cheat on them the second you hang up. Maybe my brain doesn't have the capacity to understand because I myself could never hurt a person in that way.

It took me this long to see the emotional instability that you forced me to go through when we were together. You controlled every move I ever wanted to make. I lost friendships, memories, and time with loved ones because you demanded every inkling of my time. I wonder if you felt so insecure about your own self that you went out of your way to make me feel small. Most of all, I wonder if you realized all you lost when I walked away, and you never heard from me again. Did you feel that pain of two hearts being ripped apart, or was it what you wanted all along? And if it is what you wanted, how did I not see past the lie you constantly told me when you promised you'd never walk away or hurt me?

That's enough sadness for a lifetime, so let me tell you, with pride, that the pain was only temporary. I look at myself now with dignity, contentment, and eagerness for the future. I have shorter hair, a smaller waistline, and a new outlook on life and love. I see the reality in your frailty and have decided to let it go. Although thoughts of you still sneak in, I view you in a new light. I am surprised to see how your life has turned out and wonder if you ever pictured yourself where you are now—because I didn't. Sometimes I think about reaching out, catching up, and maybe slaying you with words of hate—and then I remember that those actions are fleeting and I already gave you more time than needed.

I still feel the pain of your actions act against me. I feel the need to "make up for lost time" and search for someone to show me the love you never gave me. To this day, some people still don't understand the pain you made me go through, which is fine, but, in that case, they will also never understand the strength I've developed since then. I see the remains of your actions lingering in newfound relationships and the lack of trust and vulnerability I have. I have spent car rides screaming at the thought of you and the pain you continue to cause me—even six months later. My wounds have healed, but the scars are buried deep within me.

This uphill battle has been tough, but I am thankful even still that I had to go through such pain to get to the top. In time, I know forgiveness will come and I am working on softening my heart. Somewhere within me, I think I wish the best for you and that you have grown more in these last six months, maybe even more than I have. I have slowly begun to look at our memories again with joy and happiness, but it is definitely a process. You have taught me to be guarded, to trust within my own bounds, and to be wary of loving more quickly than I should.

Six months later and I have never been more happy that I walked away.