Losing you hurt like hell, but so did loving you.

And although it was months ago, the thought of how you were okay with the state you knew you left me in, hurts me every day. At the same time, it hurts to finally be able to see just how much I allowed you to hurt me. I now realize when you stopped choosing me, I thought it was okay; I thought that I put in enough effort and love for the both of us. But that wasn't enough. And I was foolish to think that to be true. I can now see that unreciprocated love is like loving an inanimate, material object. It's nothing; it doesn't love you back.

I loved you so much, with everything I had. My heart, my soul, and my body. For the last three and a half years, I've known nothing else. And you tossed all of it aside, like I was just another obstacle standing in your way, even though you didn't know what you wanted or where you were going. When you left me, broken and alone, reality struck. I no longer recognized the person I was anymore. Instead, I felt as if my worth had diminished. I had gone from a pearl to a grain of sand. Several months passed, and I was finally able to realize just how much I let you bring me down. So much, that when I lost you, I lost myself. I felt the damage you did to be unrepairable.

I felt as if I had been shoved under water, drowning, and unable to catch my breath. Instead of floating, I sunk. I was to stay rock bottom, and there was no way to come back up. I felt a hollow, emptiness that formed a pit in my stomach, one that did not leave. And with that, I had a new routine now. I cried silently into my pillow each night, as to now wake up my roommate. I left to go to my best friend's dorm room, threw myself onto her bed, grabbed the stuffed elephant, and buried my face into her pillow with hot, tears pouring out of my eyes. I stopped eating. My grades plummeted from A's to C's and D's. I didn't sleep. I suffered from insomnia. I stopped talking to people, even those who were closest to me. I wanted no contact and nothing to do with any of the human beings that crowded and surrounded me, yet made me feel so alone. For months I faked smiles, faked conversations. But when I couldn't handle the pain that I tried to hold in, I would get so angry. The anger built up so that tears no longer poured out, rather, screams that I didn't even know I could make came out. Loud, blood-curdling screams. I found myself putting on your t-shirts, because even the smallest pieces of you brought me a sense of false comfort.

You left me more than once. Three times. And after the last time, there I was, waiting for you to come back through the door to my life, just like a puppy dog. Just like every other time. I did this to myself over and over, knowing that you weren't stressing the least bit over me. I was the one crying myself to sleep every night. And the worst part was you didn't even know. Or, perhaps you did, but you tried to push the image of my flushed face, swollen eyes, and tear stains down my cheeks. You didn't know. And you didn't care to know.

So let me tell you. What I had become was a girl that cried herself to sleep nightly, that shook from attempting to silence her own tears that were caused by someone else. Someone who didn't think twice about going to bed angry and leaving her cold and alone.

When I returned from school, reality set in. I was home, and you were not. I didn't want to leave the house. I couldn't. Every place and everything reminded me of you. Our favorite ice cream parlor and the table we sat at each time, our favorite spot to go on dinner dates, and our favorite place to have a picnic. I remembered what we would order every time too. All these places that once made me the happiest girl, made me queasy with the sound of their name or sight of their sign. There are still some places where I refuse to go, so I am not overwhelmed and haunted by the memory of you. But at least once everyday, something triggers the thought of you. And now that I have moved away to school, returning to this small, little town reminds me of you each time.

Some days are better, while others have been worse. No, it did not happen overnight, but I just remember waking up one morning and thinking, "Why... Why am I letting him do this to me? What did I do to deserve this?" And it came to me. I did absolutely nothing to be treated like this. That was the day I realized how much of myself I had given up for you, and how much I would need to change myself in order to fit what your idea of what "perfect" was. I was never going to be that girl. And I have finally come to the point where I am okay with that.

And just like that I started to do the things I once loved, and I learned to love again. I hadn't even realized I had given them up in the first place. I started going out with my friends again, going outside, and experiencing everything and anything I could, knowing that these moments would stick with me forever. I listened to the music I loved, but you never liked. I took spontaneous drives, and drove with the windows down, singing my heart out to anyone that would listen, realizing that I could get through this. Without you. I was living. Without you.

And slowly, but surely, I began to remember who I was. What was even more beautiful about this disaster, was that this new me was an even better me than who I was before you. It was at this moment that I realized I don't need you. And never did.

As the weeks have continued, I've found that my heart no longer skips a beat when my phone receives a text. I no longer hope it's you. I stopped caring about what you deleted or posted on social media, and who you were talking to. I stopped caring about what you had to say to me, or about me, all together. And when I found myself packing up your things into a box, because I realized I didn’t need them anymore, I never felt so empowered.

There were so many nights I spent analyzing each and every sentence we exchanged, wondering if it was something I said that made you run away and hide. I kept myself up all night racking my brain, frantically searching for an answer or what I could have done differently.

Each and every time you left, you crushed my heart that seemed to be made of glass. The first time, in half, but we glued it back together. The next time it was dropped, it turned to scattered, shards of glass. And the last, the tiny bits deteriorated into grains of sand that could no longer be forced back together.

Even after going through this roller coaster of emotions that you put me through, I can only say that it is no longer myself, but you, I feel sorry for. The truth is, you missed out. I could have given you everything. I wanted to give you everything. I no longer feel sorry for myself because I know that you couldn’t give me what I needed. And I deserve someone who returns every ounce of love and effort that I have to offer.

While I know you probably will not see this, I still want you to know. I want you to know that there are times when I replay all of the memories of us in my mind, both good and bad. There are times when I find myself smiling and I start to miss you. There are other times when I get angry or cry.

And although I'm still on this rollercoaster of emotions, I am grateful for you. Even if our relationship resulted in a messy ending, I will always look back on things I shared with you. I loved you. And although things didn’t work out like I had hoped they would have, you were still the first person I ever truly opened myself up to. The first person I learned to love.

Several months later ... and I now know. I know that you leaving me was about you. Not me. I didn't do anything wrong. You just didn't know how to love me. And that was not my fault.

Even though it is bittersweet, I know that one day I will find someone who does that for me in return. And then maybe, just maybe, that will be the time when you realize you are ready to love me. But then it will be my turn to turn around and smile when you see that I've found someone who was ready for me from the beginning.

This is a reminder that you might have broken my heart, but you didn't break me.